Sf 


I.I  ]  tRAR\ 

University  of  California. 

Mrs.  SARAH   P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  Octobei .  i  i 
S%3l-f  ■      Class  I 


$ 
ff 

^ 
# 


HYMNS  OF  THE  AGES. 


rV     op 
U1TI7EE 


HYMNS    OF    THE    AGES. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  LYRA  CATHOLICA,  GERMANICA 
APOSTOLICA,    AND   OTHER   SOURCES. 


'.£.  S,  MA  Q" 


ft 

WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION 


By  REV.   F.   D.   HUNTINGTON,  D.  D. 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,   AND    COMPANY. 

M  DCCC  LIX. 


$- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of 'Congress,  in  the  year  1858, 

By  Phillips,  Sampson,  and  Company, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


RIVERSIDE,    CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BY 

H.    O.    HOUGHTON    AND    COMPANY 


r 


PREFACE. 

IT  has  been  our  purpose  in  compiling  this  vol- 
ume, to  bring  together,  irrespective  of  creed 
and  in  a  convenient  form,  some  of  the  best  sacred 
poetry,  such  as  contains  quiet  thoughts  for  quiet 
hours, — devotional,  comforting,  peaceful. 

We  have  therefore  in  several  instances  omitted 
hymns  which  deservedly  rank  among  the  best,  and 
in  those  from  the  Lyra  Catholica  have  made  a  few 
slight  alterations. 

Preferring  the  older  hymns  as  less  known,  and 
richer  in  association,  we  have  not  limited  ourselves 
to  these  :  whatever  seemed  to  belong  in  the  book 
we  have  placed  here,  not  carelessly,  yet  caring  little 
for  its  outward  source.  If  it  be  true  that  all  along 
the  ages  and  amid  all  varying  phases  of  belief,  the 


vi  Preface. 

human  heart  is  the  same,  and  if  this  in  the  hymns 
before  us,  has  chanted  its  yearnings,  and  doubts,  and 
comforts,  and  heavenward  hopes,  in  the  one  great 
temple  whose  roof  overarches  all  our  creeds,  need 
we  ask  whether  the  strain  first  stole  from  desk  or 
aisle,  from  monkish  crypt  or  kingly  chapel,  from 
the  soul  of  a  heart-broken  sinner,  or  canonized 
saint  % 

The  heart  of  humanity  in  its  highest,  deepest 
moods  has  spoken  here,  still  speaks;  and  the  Divine 
heart  has  listened,  listens  still  as  we  believe,  to  these 
tender  and  glorious  songs. 


c.  s.  w. 
a.  E.  g. 


July,  1858. 


PREFACE 

TO  THE  LYRA  CATHOLICA. 


COMPETENT  and  willing  hands  have  been 
found  to  do  the  grateful  work  of  making 
these  selections  of  rare  and  beautiful  poetry.  Most 
of  the  pieces,  not  all,  are  culled  from  the  rich  and 
hallowed  minstrelsy  of  the  Catholic  Communion, — 
the  time  being  quite  come  when  Christians  who 
would  be  truly  catholic,  cannot  afford  to  lose  the 
nourishment  and  consolation  for  the  inward  life, 
which  any  branch  of  Christ's  Body  supplies.  To 
most  Protestants  these  pieces  will  be  new.  By  a 
few,  some  of  them  will  be  greeted  as  acquaintances 
already  familiar  and  endeared,  the  companions  of 
many  sacred  hours.  The  present  writer's  office  is 
merely  to  pass  on  to  the  public  what  the  taste  and 
veneration  of  two  friends  have  made  ready.     With- 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholica. 


out  undertaking  to  commend  these  noble  and  grace- 
ful productions,  he  would  only  invite  the  inquiry 
whether  the  elements  and  influences  united  in  them, 
are  not  precisely  such  as  the  religious  culture  of  our 
time  and  region  needs;  whether  the  nameless  quali- 
ty of  genuine  sacred  poetry  is  not  in  them,  in  a  re- 
markable measure ;  whether  the  energy  and  fire  of 
original  genius  are  not  finely  blended  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  quiet  heart  and  a  deep  spirituality ; 
whether  the  facts,  the  materials,  the  symbols,  the 
persons,  all  the  outward  forms  and  events  through 
which  the  Eternal  Word  is  revealed,  are  not  here 
so  delicately  and  vigorously  touched  as  to  render 
them  powerful  attractions  to  a  holy  life ;  and  wheth- 
er devotion  is  not  likely  to  grow  ardent  and  firm 
where  the  inmost  soul  of  man  is  so  humbly  thrown 
open,  as  here,  to  the  personal  approaches  of  his 
Maker  and  Redeemer. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  those  readers  who  are 
first  introduced  to  the  treasures  of  devout  poetry  in 
the  Old  Church  by  this  volume,  to  know  that  the 
Lyra  Catholica  most  in  use  in  this  country  is  a  re- 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholica. 


publication  and  enlargement  of  an  English  collec- 
tion, of  the  same  name,  compiled  and  translated  by 
Edward  Caswall  in  1849, — extracts  from  whose 
preface  are  given  below.  The  American  work  is 
published  by  Edward  Dunigan  and  brother,  of  New 
York,  whose  kindness  and  courtesy  in  allowing  the 
present  abridgment  are  cordially  acknowledged.  It 
includes  three  parts :  1.  The  Hymns  of  the  Roman 
Breviary  and  Missal,  with  others  adapted  to  the  an- 
nual Festivals  of  the  Church ;  2.  Hymns,  Anthems, 
and  Holy  Lyrics,  appropriate  to  particular  occa- 
sions of  devotion;  3.  Sacred  Poems  less  intimately 
related  to  ecclesiastical  services,  selected  from  both 
Catholic  and  Protestant  writers. 

From  the  whole  vast  range  of  Christian  thought, 
experience,  and  imagination,  therefore, — from  the 
fresh  melodies  lifted  in  the  morning  air  of  the 
Christian  ages,- — from  that  long  line  of  consecrated 
and  aspiring  singers  reaching  back  to  the  days  of 
Constantine, — from  among  the  lofty  strains  of  Am- 
brose and  Jerome  and  their  strong  fellow-believers, 
where  the  sanctity  of  centuries  is  so  wrought,  like 
an    invisible    aroma,   into  the  very   substance  and 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholica. 


structure  of  the  verses,  that  it  would  seem  as  if 
some  prophetic  sense  of  their  immortality  had 
breathed  in  the  men  that  wrote  them, — from  the 
secret  cells  and  the  high  cathedrals  of  the  Continen- 
tal worship,  where  scholarship,  and  art,  and  power 
joined  with  piety  to  raise  the  Lauds  and  Glorias, 
the  Matins  and  Vespers,  the  Sequences  and  the 
Choral  Harmonies  of  a  gorgeously  appointed 
Praise, — from  the  purer  literature  of  Old  England, 
embracing  the  tender  and  earnest  numbers  of  South- 
well, and  Crashaw,  and  Habington,  and  a  multitude 
better  known  besides, — these  voices  of  Faith  are 
reverently  gathered  into  their  perfect  harmony. 

The  volume  is  offered  to  the  thoughtful  portion 
of  our  community,  with  a  cheerful  confidence  that 
it  will  fulfil  an  elevating,  purifying,  comforting 
ministry  in  many  hearts,  closets,  and  homes.  Nor 
will  its  worth  fail  to  be  the  more  cordially  con- 
fessed in  many  quarters,  because  so  much  in  it 
favors  the  general  tendency  to  recognize  the  observ- 
ances and  associations  of  the  Christian'  Year. 

Cambridge,  June  1858.  F.  D.  H. 


EXTRACTS 

From  the  Preface  of  Edward  Caswall,  M.  A.,  to  his 
Lyra  Catholica. 

It  has  been  the  object  to  exhibit  for  the  firft  time  in 
an  Englifh  form,  the  entire  series  of  those  divine  Hymns, 
which,  in  their  Latin  originals,  have  through  ages  been, 
and  ftill  continue  to  be,  to  countless  saintly  souls,  the  joy 
and  consolation  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage. 

"  The  present  contribution  to  the  exifting  ftore  of  Cath- 
olic vernacular  Hymns,  confifts  of  three  portions.  The 
firft,  and  by  far  the  largeft  portion,  comprehends  all  the 
Hymns  in  the  Roman  Breviary,  including  those  in  the  Of- 
ficia  Sanctorum  Angliae  ;  the  second  portion  comprises  the 
Hymns  and  Sequences  of  the  Roman  Miflal ;  and  the 
third  confifts  of  Hymns  from  various  sources.  Of  these 
latter  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  Hymns  on  the  Nativity, 
Annunciation,  and  Vifitation,  of  our  Blefled  Lady,  as  also 
those  to  St.  Anne,  St.  Stephen,  and  St.  John  the  Evange- 
lift,  are  from  the  Monadic  Breviary  of  Cluny  ;  those  on 
the  Purification  and  the  AlTumption,  the  Hymn  to  Jesus, 
and  that  for  Sunday  Morning,  from  the  Parifian  Breviary  ; 
and  those  to  St.  Joseph,  St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  and  St.  Pius 
the  Fifth,  from  the  Raccolta  delle  Indulgenze. 

"  As  respects  the  Hymns  in  general,  it  may  be  useful 
to  remark,  that  the  greater  number  of  them  appear  to 
have  been  originally  written,  not  with  a  view  to  private 


xii  Preface. 

reading,  but  for  the  purpose  of  being  sung  to  the  beautiful 
ecclefiaftical  melodies  by  Monaftic  and  other  Religious 
Bodies  at  their  Office  in  Choir.  This  circumfrance  will 
serve  to  explain  a  few  scattered  expreffions,  which  other- 
wise might  seem  unreal  ;  as,  for  inftance,  where  allufions 
occur  to  the  practice  of  riftng  at  midnight  to  fing  praises 
to  God  ; — and  if,  on  the  one  hand,  some  few  of  the 
Hymns  may  so  far  appear  less  adapted  to  the  use  of  per- 
sons living  in  the  world,  it  is  our  gain  surely,  on  the  other 
hand,  thus,  by  occafional  glimpses,  to  be  reminded  of  that 
more  perfect  life,  which  has  never  ceased  to  be  a  reality  in 
the  Catholic  Church. 

"  Another  advantage,  which  we  owe,  doubtless,  in  a 
measure,  to  the  same  circumftance — an  advantage  not  to 
be  despised  in  a  sentimental  age — is  the  exceedingly  plain 
and  practical  character  of  these  Hymns.  Written  with  a 
view  to  conftant  daily  use,  they  aim  at  something  more 
than  merely  exciting  the  feelings.  They  have  a  perpetual 
reference  to  action.  Their  character  is  eminently  objec- 
tive. Their  tendency  is,  to  take  the  individual  out  of 
himself;  to  set  before  him,  in  turn,  all  the  varied  and  sub- 
lime Objects  of  Faith  ;  and  to  blend  him  with  the  uni- 
versal family  of  the  Faithful. 

"  And  here,  although  the  Tranflator  may  seem  to  be 
pleading  his  own  cause,  yet  he  cannot  refrain  from  oWrv- 
ing,  that  truly  poetical  as  are  many  of  these  Hymns,  as  in- 
deed well  befits  the  sacred  outpourings  of  Chrill's  tender 
Spouse,  frill,  as  a  whole,  the  devotional  is  their  primary 
ami  leaft  disappointing  aspect.  Whoever  attempts  to  read 
them  as   mere   poetry,  will  obtain  from   them   little  of  that 


Preface.  xiii 

delight  which  they  are  capable  of  inspiring.  And  as  this 
is  true  of  the  original  Latin,  so  it  is  truer  flill  of  the 
Hymns  as  they  appear  in  the  present  tranflation  ;  in 
which,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  unadorned  fimplicity  of  the 
prototype  has  too  often  degenerated  into  plainness  ;  while 
its  beauties  have  been  faintly  reflected,  and  their  clear  edge 
blunted  in  pafling  through  a  too  earthly  medium." 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

LYRA    CATHOLICA 

MATINS 3 

VESPERS 19 

ASPIRATION 23 

SELF-CONSECRATION 29 

TRUST 39 

PRAYER 5° 

ENCOURAGEMENT 56 

SELF-EXAMINATION 61 

CHRIST 73 

SAINTS,   MARTYRS,    &C IOO 

COMMUNION   SERVICE 1 1 6 

DEDICATION   OF   A   CHURCH 1 19 

MISCELLANEOUS 122 

LYRA   GERMANICA 137 

LYRA  APOSTOLIC  A 179 

LYRA   INNOCENTIUM 193 

MISCELLANEOUS 215 


LYRA    CATHOLICA. 


LYRA    CATHOLICA. 


MATINS. 

O  BLEST  Creator  of  the  light ! 
Who  doft  the  dawn  from  darkness  bring ; 
And  framing  Nature's  depth  and  height, 
Didft  with  the  new-born  light  begin  ; 

Who  gently  blending  eve  with  morn, 

And  morn  with  eve,  didft  call  them  day  : — 

Thick  flows  the  flood  of  darkness  down  ; 
Oh,  hear  us  as  we  weep  and  pray ! 

Keep  thou  our  souls  from  schemes  of  crime  ; 

Nor  guilt  remorseful  let  them  know ; 
Nor,  thinking  but  on  things  of  time, 

Into  eternal  darkness  go. 

Teach  us  to  knock  at  Heaven's  high  door  ; 

Teach  us  the  prize  of  life  to  win ; 
Teach  us  all  evil  to  abhor, 

And  purify  ourselves  within. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


NOW  doth  the  sun  ascend  the  fky, 
And  wake  creation  with  its  ray  ; 
Keep  us  from  fin,  O  Lord  mod  high ! 
Through  all  the  actions  of  the  day. 

Curb  Thou  for  us  th'  unruly  tongue  ; 

Teach  us  the  way  of  peace  to  prize  j 
And  close  our  eyes  againft  the  throng 

Of  earth's  absorbing  vanities. 

Oh,  may  our  hearts  be  pure  within  ! 

No  cherifh'd  madness  vex  the  soul ! 
May  abftinence  the  flefh  reftrain, 

And  its  rebellious  pride  control. 

So  when  the  evening  ftars  appear, 

And  in  their  train  the  darkness  bring ; 

May  we,  O  Lord,  with  conscience  clear, 
Our  praise  to  thy  pure  glory  fing. 

Breviary. 


<£%£$ 


Matins. 


OUR  limbs  with  tranquil  fleep  refrem'd 
Lightly  from  bed  we  spring  ; 
Father  supreme!  to  us  be  nigh 
While  to  thy  praise  we  sing. 

Thy  love  be  firft  in  every  heart 

Thy  name  on  every  tongue  ; 
Whatever  we  this  day  may  do, 

May  it  in  Thee  be  done. 

Soon  will  the  morning  ftar  arise, 

And  chase  the  dufk  away ; 
Whatever  guilt  has  come  with  night, 

May  it  depart  with  day. 

Cut  off  in  us,  Almighty  Lord, 

All  that  may  lead  to  fhame  ; 
So  with  pure  hearts  may  we  in  bliss 

Thine  endless  praise  proclaim. 


Breviary. 


Matins. 


GREAT  Framer  of  the  earth  and  fky, 
Who  doft  the  light  and  darkness  give 
And  all  the  cheerful  change  supply 
Of  alternating  morn  and  eve! 

Light  of  the  midnight  traveller  ! 

Who  doft  divide  the  day  from  night! — 
Loud  crows  the  dawn's  fhrill  harbinger, 

And  wakens  up  the  sunbeams  bright. 

Forthwith  at  this,  the  darkness  chill 
Retreats  before  the  ftar  of  morn  ; 

And  from  their  busy  schemes  of  ill, 
The  vagrant  crews  of  night  return. 

Frefh  hope,  at  this,  the  sailor  cheers  ; 

The  waves  their  ftormy  ftrife  allay ; 
The  Church's  Rock  at  this,  in  tears, 

Haftens  to  warn  his  guilt  away. 

Arise  ye,  then,  with  one  accord ! 

Nor  longer  wrapt  in   (lumber  lie  ; 
The  cock  rebukes  all  who  their  Lord 

By  floth  neglecl,  by  fin  deny. 


Matins. 


At  his  clear  cry  joy  springs  afrefh  ; 

Health  courses  through  the  sick  man's  veins 
The  dagger  glides  into  its  fheath  ; 

The  fallen  soul  her  faith  regains. 

Jesu  !  look  on  us  when  we  fall ; — 

One  momentary  glance  of  thine 
Can  from  her  guilt  the  soul  recall 

To  tears  of  penitence  divine. 

Awake  us  from  false  fleep  profound, 

And  through  our  senses  pour  thy  light ; 

Be  thy  bleft  name  the  firfr.  we  sound 
At  early  dawn,  the  laft  at  night. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


COME,  Holy  Ghoft,  and  through  each  heart 
In   thy  full  flood  of  glory  pour; 
Who,  with  the  Son  and  Father,  art 
One  Godhead  bleff.  for  evermore. 

So  fhall  voice,  mind,  and  ftrength  conspire 

Thy  praise  eternal  to  resound  ; 
So  fhall  our  hearts  be  set  on  fire, 

And  kindle  every  heart  around. 


Father  of  mercies  !  hear  our  cry ; 

Hear  us,  O  sole-begotten  Son  ! 
Who,  with  the  Holy  Ghoft  moft  high, 

Reigneft  while  endless  ages  run. 

Breviary. 


LORD  of  eternal  truth  and  might ! 
Ruler  of  nature's  changing  scheme  ! 
Who  doft  bring  forth  the  morning  light, 
And  temper  noon's  effulgent  beam  : 

Quench  Thou  in  us  the  flames  of  ftrife, 
And  bid  the  heat  of  passion  cease  ; 

From  perils  guard  our  feeble  life, 

And  keep  our  souls  in  perfect  peace. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


Rerum  Deus  tenax  'vigor. 

OTHOU  true  life  of  all  that  live! 
Who  doft,  unmoved,  all  motion  sway  ; 
Who  doft  the  morn  and  evening  give, 
And  through  its  changes  guide  the  day  : 

Thy  light  upon  our  evening  pour, — 

So  may  our  souls  no  sunset  see  ; 
But  death  to  us  an  open  door 

To  an  eternal  morning  be. 

Father  of  mercies  !  hear  our  cry ; 

Hear  us,  O  sole-begotten  Son  ! 
Who,  with  the  Holy  Ghoft  moft  high, 

Reigneft  while  endless  ages  run. 

Breviary. 


LET  us  arise  and  watch  ere  dawn  of  light, 
And  to  the  Lord  our  hearts  and  voices  raise  ; 
And  meditate  in  psalms,  and  all  unite 
In  holy  hymns  of  praise. 

So  joining  in  the  ftrains  of  saints  on  high 
Hereafter,  in  the  courts  of  heaven's  great  King, 
May  we  be  meet  his  praise  eternally 
With  them  in  bliss  to  sing. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


OTHOU  the  Father's  Image  bleft  ! 
Who  called  forth  the  morning  ray  j 
O  Thou  eternal  Light  of  light ! 
And  inexhauftive  Fount  of  day  ! 

True  Sun  !  upon  our  souls  arise, 

Shining  in  beauty  evermore  ; 
And  through  each  sense  the  quick'ning  beam 

Of  the  eternal  Spirit  pour. 

Thee  too,  O  Father,  we  entreat, 
Father  of  might  and  grace  divine! 

Father  of  glorious  majefty  ! 
Thy  pitying  eye  on  us  incline. 

Confirm  us  in  each  good  resolve  ; 

The  Tempter's  envious  rage  subdue  ; 
Turn  each  misfortune  to  our  good  ; 

Direct  us  right  in  all  we  do. 

Rule  Thou  our  inmoft  thoughts  ;  let  no 

Impurity  our  hearts  defile  ; 
Grant  us  a  true  and   fervent  faith  ; 

Grant  us  a  spirit  free  from  guile. 

May  Chrifl:  himself  he  our  true  Food, 
And   Faith  our  daily   cup   supply  ; 


Matins. 


While  from  the  Spirit's  tranquil  depth 
We  drink  unfailing  draughts  of  joy. 

Still  ever  with  the  peep  of  morn 

May  saintly  modefty  attend  ; 
Faith  sanctify  the  midday  hours  ; 

Upon  the  soul  no  night  descend. 

Faft  breaks  the  dawn. — Each  whole  in  Each, 
Come,  Father  bleft  !  Come,  Son  moil  high  ! 

Shine  in  our  souls,  and  be  to  them 
The  dawn  of  immortality. 

Breviary. 


LO,  fainter  now  lie  spread  the  shades  of  night, 
And  upward  fhoot  the  trembling  gleams  of  morn 
Suppliant  we  bend  before  the  Lord  of  Light, 
And  pray  at  early  dawn, — 

That  his  sweet  charity  may  all  our  fin 
Forgive,  and  make  our  miseries  to  cease ; 
May  grant  us  health,  grant  us  the  gift  divine 
Of  everlafting  peace. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


THE   CHRISTIAN   TO   HIS   SOUL    AT   SUNRISE. 

SOIL  not  thy  plumage,  gentle  dove, 
With  sublunary  things, — 
Till  in  the  fount  of  light  and  love, 
Thou  fhalt  have  bathed  thy  wings. 

Shall  Nature  from  her  couch  arise, 

And  rise  for  thee  in  vain  ? 
While  heaven,  and  earth,  and  seas,  and  fides, 

Such  types  of  truth  contain. 

See — where  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 

'  Unfolds  the  gates  of  day  : 
Go, — meet  Him  in  his  glorious  dress, 
And  quaff  the  orient  ray ! 

There,  where  ten  thousand  seraphs  ftand, 

To  crown  the  circling  hours, — 
Soar  thou, — and  from  that  blifsful  land 

Bring  down  unfading  flowers  : 

Some  Rose  of  Sharon,  dyed  in  blood, 

Some  spice  of  Gilead's  balm, 
Some  lily  wafhed  in  Calvary's  flood, 

Some  branch  of  heavenly  palm ! 

And  let  the  drops  of  sparkling  dew, 
From   Siloa's  spring  be  fhed, 


Matins.  13 


To  form  a  fragrance  frem  and  new, 
A  halo  round  thy  head. 

Spread  then  thy  plumes  of  faith  and  prayer, 

Nor  fear  to  wend  away ; 
And  let  a  glow  of  heavenly  air, 

Gild  every  earthly  day ! 


Brydges. 


Consors  paterr.i  /uminis. 

PURE  Light  of  light !  eternal  Day  ! 
Who  doft  the  Father's  brightness  fhare 
Our  chant  the  midnight  silence  breaks  ; — 
Be  nigh,  and  hearken  to  our  prayer. 

Scatter  the  darkness  of  our  minds, 
And  turn  the  hofts  of  hell  to  flight ; 

Let  not  our  souls  in  floth  repose, 
And  fleeping  fink  in  endless  night. 

O  Chrift  !  for  thy  dear  mercy's  sake, 
Spare  us,  who  put  our  truft  in  Thee  ; 

Nor  let  our  hymns  ascend  in  vain 
To  thy  immortal  Majesty. 

Breviary. 


14  Mati 


NOW,  while  the  herald  bird  of  day 
Proclaims  the  morning  bright ; 
Chrift  also,  speaking  in  the  soul, 
Wakes  her  to  life  and  light. 

"  Take  up  your  beds,"  we  hear  Him  say, 

"  No  more  in  number  lie  ; 
In  juftice,  truth,  and  temperance, 

Keep  watch  ; — Your  Lord  is  nigh." 

O  Chrift  !  and  art  Thou  nigh  indeed  ? — 

Then  let  us  watch  and  weep  ; 
This  truth  but  once  in  earneft  felt 

Forbids  the  heart  to  fleep. 

Break,  Lord,  the  spell  that  wraps  us  round 

In  deadly  bonds  of  night  ; 
Shatter  the  chains  of  former  guilt  j 

Renew  in  us  thy  light. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


Nox  et  tenebra  et  nubila. 

YE  mift  and  darkness,  cloud  and  ftorm, 
Confused  creations  of  the  night  ; 
Light  enters — morning  ftreaks  the  iky — 

Chrift  comes, — 'tis  time  ye  take  your  flight. 

Pierced  by  the  sun's  ethereal  dart, 

Night's  gloomy  mass  is  cleft  in  twain ; 

And,  in  the  smiling  face  of  day, 
Nature  resumes  her  tints  again. 

O  God,  we  know  no  sun  but  Thee  ! 

Shine  in  our  souls  divinely  bright ! 
We  seek  Thee  in  simplicity; 

Through  all   our  senses  shed  thy  light. 

A  thousand  objects  all  around 

In  false  delufive  colors  fhine  ; 
To  purge  them  clear,  we  ask,  O  Lord, 

But  one  immortal  beam  of  thine. 

Breviary. 


1 6  Matins. 


N 


Lux  ecce  surgit  aurea. 

OW  with  the  riling  golden  dawn, 
Let  us,  the  children  of  the  day, 
Caft  off  the  darkness  which  so  long 
Has  led  our  guilty  souls  aftray. 

Oh,  may  the  morn  so  pure,  so  clear, 
Its  own  sweet  calm  in  us  inftil  ; 

A  guileless  mind,  a  heart  fincere, 
Simplicity  of  word  and  will  : 

And  ever,  as  the  day  glides  by, 
May  we  the  busy  senses  rein  j 

Keep  guard  upon  the  hand  and  eye, 
Nor  let  the  body  suffer  ftain. 

For  all  day  long,  on  Heaven's  high  tower, 
There  ftands  a  Sentinel,  who  spies 

Our  every  action,  hour  by  hour, 
From  early  dawn  till  daylight  dies. 


Breviary. 


<_v  W  fl*3 


Matins. 


GRANT  us  a  body  pure  within  ; 
A  wakeful  heart,  a  ready  will; 
Grant  us,  by  no  deep  cherifh'd  fin, 
The  fervor  of  the  soul  to  chill. 

Fill  Thou  our  souls,   Redeemer  true  ! 

With  thy  moft  pure  celeftial  ray; 
So  may  we  walk  in  safety  through 

All  the  temptations  of  this  day. 

Breviary. 


UPON  our  fainting  souls  diftil 
The  grace  of  thy  celeftial  dew  ; 
Let  no  fresh  snare  to  fin  beguile, 
No  former  fin  revive  anew. 

Grant  us  the  grace,  for  love  of  Thee, 

To  scorn  all  vanities  below  ; 
Faith  to  detect  each  falfity  ; 

And  knowledge,  Thee  alone  to  know. 

Breviary. 


1 8  Matins. 


THE  ftar  that  heralds  in  the  morn 
Is   fading  in  the  fkies; 
The  darkness  melts  ; — O  Thou  true  Light ! 
Upon  our  souls  arise. 

Steep  all  our  senses  in  thy  beam  ; 

The  world's  false  night  expel ; 
Purge  each  defilement  from  the  soul, 

And  in  our  bosoms  dwell. 

Come,  early  Faith  !   fix  in  our  hearts 

Thy  root  immovably  ; 
Come,  smiling  Hope  !  and,  laft  not  lead, 

Immortal  Charity  ! 

Breviary. 


Vespers. 


VESPERS. 


CHRISTMAS  VESPER  HYMN. 

DEPART  awhile,  each  thought  of  care, 
Be  earthly  things  forgotten  all ; 
And  speak,  my  soul,  thy  vesper  prayer  ; 

Obedient  to  that  sacred  call. 
For  hark !  the  pealing  chorus  swells  ; 

Devotion  chants  the  hymn  of  praise, 
And  now  of  joy  and  hope  it  tells, 
Till  fainting  on  the  ear,  it  says — 
Gloria  tibi  Domine, 
Domine,  Domine. 

Thine,  wondrous  babe  of  Galilee  ! 

Fond  theme  of  David's  harp  and  song, 
Thine  are  the  notes  of  minftrelsy — 

To  thee  its  ransom'd  chords  belong. 
And  hark!  again  the  chorus  swells, 

The  song  is  wafted  on  the  breeze, 
And  to  the  liftening  earth  it  tells — 

In  accents  soft  and  sweet  as  these — 
Gloria  tibi  Domine. 


20  Vespers. 

My  heart  doth  feel  that  ftill   He's  near, 

To  meet  the  soul  in  hours  like  this, 
Else — why,  O  why,  that  falling  tear ! 

When  all  is  peace  and  love  and  blis; 
But  hark  !   that  pealing  chorus  swells 

Anew,  its  thrilling  vesper  ftrain, 
And   ftill  of  joy  and  hope  it  tells, 

And  bids  creation  fing  again — 
Gloria  tibi  Domine. 


y.   Hugbc 


COME,  O  Creator  Spirit  bleft ! 
And  in  our  souls  take  up  thy  reft  ; 
Come,  with  thy  grace  and  heavenly  aid, 
To  fill  the  hearts  which  Thou  haft  made. 

Kindle  our  senses  from  above, 
And  make  our  hearts  o'erflow  with  love  ; 
With  patience  firm,  and  virtue  high, 
The  weakness  of  our  flefh  supply. 

Far  from  us  drive  the  foe  we  dread, 
And  grant  us  thy  true  peace  inftead  ; 
So  fhall  we  not,  with  Thee  for  guide, 
Turn  from  the  path  of  life  afide. 

Breviary. 


Vespers. 


THE  pall  of  night  o'erfhades  the  earth, 
And  hides  the  tints  of  day  ; — 
O  Thou  !  to  whom  no  night  comes  near, 
Dread  Judge !   to  Thee  we  pray  ! 

That  Thou  wilt  all  our  guilt  remove, 

And  our  loft  peace  reftore ; 
And  of  thy  mercy  grant  that  we 

May  grieve  thy  heait  no  more. 

The  guilty  soul,  which  all  too  long 

In  lethargy  hath  lain, 
Yearns  to  caft  off  her  load,  and  seek 

Her  Saviour's  face  again. 

Expel  from  her  the  darkness,  Lord, 

Of  her  internal  night ; 
Renew  her  bliss, — renew  in  her 

Thy  beatific  light. 

Breviary. 


Vespe 


*^    Who  doft  the  world  with  light  adorn, 
And  paint  the  tracts  of  azure  fky 
With  lovely  hues  of  eve  and  morn  : 

Who  didft  command  the  sun  to  light 
His  fiery  wheel's  effulgent  blaze  ; 

Didft  set  the  moon  her  circuit  bright  ; 
The  ftars  their  ever-winding  maze  : 

That,  each  within  its  order'd  sphere, 
They  might  divide  the  night  from  day  ; 

And  of  the  seasons  through  the  year, 
The  well  remember'd  signs  display  : 

Scatter  our  night,  eternal  God, 

And  kindle  thy  pure  beam  within  ; 

Free  us  from  guilt's  opprefiive    load, 
And  break  the  deadly  bonds  of  fin. 


vtary. 


THEE  in  the  hymns  of  morn  we  praise; 
To  Thee  our  voice  at  eve  we   raise  ; 
Oh,  grant  us,  with  thy  Saints  on  high, 
Thee  through  all  time  to  glorify. 

Breviary. 


Aspiration.  23 


ASPIRATION. 


PERFECTION. 


OHOW  the  thought  of  God  attrafts 
And  draws  the  heart  from  earth, 
And  fickens  it  of  palling  mows 
And  diffipating  mirth  ! 

'Tis  not  enough  to  save  our  souls, 

To  shun  the  eternal  fires  ; 
The  thought  of  God  will  rouse  the  heart 

To  more  sublime  defires. 

God  only  is  the  creature's  home, 
Though  long  and  rough  the  road ; 

Yet  nothing  less  can  satisfy 
The  love  that  longs  for  God. 

O  utter  but  the  Name  of  God 
Down  in  your  heart  of  hearts, 

And  see  how  from  the  world  at  once 
All  tempting  light  departs. 


24  Aspiration. 


A  trufting  heart,  a  yearning  eye, 

Can  win  their  way  above  ; 
If  mountains  can  be  moved  by  faith, 

Is  there  less  power  in  love  ? 

How  little  of  that  road,  my  soul  ! 

How  little  haft:  thou  gone  ! 
Take  heart,  and  let  the  thought  of  God 

Allure  thee  further  on. 

The  freedom  from  all  wilful  fin, 
The  Chriftian's  daily  tafk, — 

O  these  are  graces  far  below 
What  longing  love  would  aflc  ! 

Dole  not  thy  duties  out  to  God, 

But  let  thy  hand  be  free  : 
Look  long  at  Jesus  ;  his  sweet  Blood, 

How  was  it  dealt  to  thee  ? 

The  perfect  way  is  hard  to  flefh  ; 

It  is  not  hard  to  love  ; 
If  thou  wert  fick  for  want  of  God, 

How  swiftly  wouldfl:  thou  move  ! 

Good  is  the  cloifter's  filent  fhade, 

Cold  watch  and  pining  faft  ; 
Better  the  miflions  wearing  ftrife, 

If  there  thy  lot  be  caft. 


Aspiration. 


25 


Yet  none  of  these  perfection  needs  : — 
Keep  thy  heart  calm  all  day, 

And  catch  the  words  the  Spirit  there 
From  hour  to  hour  may  say. 


O  keep  thy  conscience  senfitive  ; 

No  inward  token   miss  ; 
And  go  where  grace  entices  thee  ;- 

Perfection  lies  in  this. 

Be  docile  to  thine  unseen  Guide, 
Love   Him  as   He  loves  thee  ; 

Time  and  obedience  are  enough, 
And  thou  a  saint  fhalt  be  ! 


Faber. 


26  Aspiration. 


THE   ETERNAL   FATHER. 

OHOW  I  fear  Thee,  living  God  ! 
With  deepeft,  tendered  fears, 
And  worfhip  Thee  with  trembling  hope, 
And  penitential  tears. 

Yet  I  may  love  Thee  too,  O  Lord  ! 

Almighty  as  Thou  art, 
For  Thou  haft  ftooped  to  afk  of  me 

The  love  of  my  poor  heart. 

O  then  this  worse  than  worthless  heart 

In  pity  deign  to  take, 
And  make  it  love  Thee  for  thyself 

And  for  thy  glory's  sake. 

No  earthly  father  loves  like  Thee, 

No  mother  half  so  mild 
Bears  and  forbears,  as  Thou  haft  done, 

With   me  thy   finful  child. 

Only  to  fit  and  think  of  God — 
O   what  a  joy  it   is  ! 

To  think  the  thought,  to  breathe  the  Name- 
Earth  has  no  hiahcr  bliss  ! 


Aspiration.  27 


Father  of  Jesus  !  love's  Reward  ! 

What  rapture  will  it  be 
Proftrate  before  thy  throne  to  lie, 

And  gaze  and  gaze  on  Thee  ! 

Faber. 


PECCATOR   AD    CHRISTUM. 

MY  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 
To  dwell  within  my  breaft  ; 
Although  I  am  unworthy 
Of  so  divine  a  Gueft  ! 

Of  so  divine  a  Gueft — 

Unworthy  though  I  be  ; 
Yet  hath  my  heart  no  reft 

Until  it  come  to  Thee  ! 

Until  it  come  to  Thee, — 

In  vain  I  look  around  ; 
In  all  that  I  can  see, 

No  rest  is  to  be  found  ! 

No  reft  is  to  be  found, 

But  in  thy  bleeding  love  : 
Oh!  let  my  wifh  be  crown'd, 

And  send  it  from  above  ! 

Brydges. 


28  Aspiration. 


CHRISTUS   AD    PECCATOREM. 

CHEER  up,  desponding  soul, 
Thy  longing  pleased  I  see  : 
'Tis  part  of  that  great  whole, 
Wherewith  I  long'd  for  thee  ! 

Wherewith  I  long'd   for  thee, 
And  left  my  Father's  throne  ; 

From  death  to  set  thee  free, 
And  claim  thee  for  my  own  ! 

To  claim  thee  for  my  own, 

I  suffer'd  on  the  cross  : 
Oh  !  were  my  love  but  known, 

All  else  would  be  as  dross  ! 

All  else  would  be  as  dross  ! 

And  souls,  through  grace  divine, 
Would  count  their  gains  but  loss, 

To  live  forever  mine  ! 

Brydges. 


Self-Consecration.  29 


SELF-CONSECRATION. 


FAITH    OF    OUR    FATHERS. 

FAITH  of  our  Fathers  !  living  (till 
In  spite  of  dungeon,  fire,  and  sword  : 
Oh  how  our  hearts  beat  high  with  joy 

Whene'er  we  hear  that  glorious  word  : 
Faith  of  our  Fathers !    Holy  Faith  ! 
We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Our  Fathers,  chain'd  in  prisons  dark, 
Were  ftill  in  heart  and  conscience  free  : 

How  sweet  would  be  their  children's  fate, 
If  they,  like  them,  could  die  for  thee  ! 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !    Holy  Faith  ! 

We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !  we  will  love 
Both  friend  and  foe  in  all  our  ftrife  : 

And  preach  thee  too,  as  love  knows  how 
By  kindly  words  and  virtuous  life  : 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !    Holy  Faith  ! 

We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Faher. 


30  Self-Consecration. 


THE   VOW. 

BRIGHT  Angels  who  attend 
Around  our  altar  now, 
Your  wonted  cares  suspend, 

Lift  to  the  holy  Vow, 
Which,  while  the  sacrifice 

Of  Heaven's  eternal  love, 
Pleads  for  us  every  grace, 
Is  heard  in  heaven  above. 

Jesus !  my  happy  heart 

Now  gives  itself  to  Thee, 
O  !  never  hence  depart, 

Reign  here  eternally. 
Thy  sacred  name  alone, 

All  my  delight  shall  prove  ; 
No  joy  my  soul  fhall  own, 

But  in  thy  holy  love. 

And,  oh  !  in  after  years, 

When  life  is  fading  faft, 
When  flow  repentant  tears, 

Cancelling  errors  paft, 
Still  fhall  that  holy  vow, 

Be  breathed  to  Heaven, 
And  fervently  as  now, 

My  heart  to  Thee  be  given. 


Self-Consecration. 


31 


HYMN   FOR   CONFIRMATION. 
X 
l\/rY  God,  accept  my  heart  this  day, 
J-TJ.   And  make  it  always  thine, — 
That  I  from  Thee  no  more  may  ftray, 
No  more  from  Thee  decline. 

Before  the  cross  of  Him  who  died, 

Behold  I  proftrate  fall  : 
Let  every  fin  be  crucified, — 

Let  Chrift  be  all  in  all  ! 

Anoint  me  with  thy  heavenly  grace, 

Adopt  me  for  thine  own, — 
That  I  may  see  thy  glorious  face, 

And  worfhip  at  thy  throne  ! 

May  the  dear  blood,  once  fhed  for  me, 

My  bleft  atonement  prove, — 
That  I  from  firft  to  laft  may  be 

The  purchase  of  thy  love  ! 

Let  every  thought,  and  work,  and  word, 

To  Thee  be  ever  given, — 
Then  life  fhall  be  thy  service,  Lord, 

And  death  the  gate  of  heaven. 

Brydges. 


32  Self-Consecration. 


JESUS,  I  MY  CROSS  HAVE  TAKEN. 

Crux  sublata.     Matt.  xvi.  24. 

JESUS, — I  my  cross  have  taken, 
All  to  leave  and  follow  Thee ; 
I  am  poor,  despised,  forsaken, — 

Thou  henceforth  my  all  fhalt  be  : 
Perish  every  fond  ambition, — 

All  I've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known  ; 
Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition, — 
God  and  heaven  are  flill  mine  own  ! 

Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

It  has  left  my  Saviour  too  ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me, 

Thou  art  not  like  them  untrue  : 
Whilft  thy  graces  fhall  adorn  me, 

God  of  wisdom,  love,  and  might, — 
Foes  may  hate,  and  friends  may  scorn  me 

Show  thy  face,  and  all  is  bright. 

Go  then, — earthly  fame  and  treasure, 
Come,  disafter,  scorn,  and  pain  ; 

In  thy  service,  pain  is  pleasure, — 
With  thy  favor,  loss  is  gain. 

I  have  called  Thee,  Abba  Father  ! 
I   have  set  my  heart  on  Thee  : 


Self-Consecration.  33 


Storms  may  howl,  and  clouds  may  gather, 
All  will  work  for  good  to  me. 


Man  may  trouble  and  diftress  me, 

'Twill  but  drive  me  to  thy  breaft  ; 
Life  with  trials  hard  may  press  me 

Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  reft. 
Oh,  'tis  not  in  grief  to  harm  me 

While  thy  love  is  left  to  me  ; — 
Oh,  'twere  not  in  joy  to  charm  me, 

Were  that  joy  unmixed  with  Thee  ! 

Soul, — then  know  thy  full  salvation, 

Rise  o'er  fin,  and  fear,  and  care  ; 
Joy  to  find  in  every  ftation, 

Something  ftill  to  do  or  bear. 
Think  what  spirit  dwells  within  thee, 

Think  what  Father's  smiles  are  thine  ; 
Think  that  Jesus  died  to  win  thee  : 

Child  of  heaven,  cans't  thou  repine  ? 

Hafte  thee  on  from  grace  to  glory, 

Armed  by  faith,  and  winged  by  prayer, — 
Heaven's  eternal  days  before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  fhall  guide  thee  there. 
Soon  mall  close  thine  earthly  miflion, 

Patience   fhall  thy  spirit  raise  ; 
Hope  fhall  change  to  glad  fruition, 

Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise  ! 

Montgomery. 


34  Self-Consecration. 


CONVERSION. 

O   FAITH  !   thou  worked  miracles 
Upon  the  hearts  of  men, 
Choofing  thy  home  in  those  same  hearts. 
We  know  not  how  or  when. 

To  one   thy  grave  unearthly  truths 

A  heavenly  vifion  seem  ; 
While  to  another's  eye  they  are 

A  superftitious  dream. 

To  one  the  deepeft  doctrines  look 

So  naturally  true, 
That  when  he  learns  the  leflbn  firft 

He  hardly  thinks  it  new. 

To  other  hearts  the  selfsame  truths 

No  light  or  heat  can  bring  ; 
They  are  but  puzzling  phrases  ftrung 

Like  beads  upon  a  firing. 

O  Gift  of  Gifts  !   O  Grace  of  Faith  I 

My  God  !   how  can  it  be 
That  Thou,  who  haft  discerning  love, 

Should'ft  give  that  gift  to  me  I 


Self-Consecration.  35 


There  was  a  place,  there  was  a  time, 

Whether  by  night  or  day, 
Thy  Spirit  came  and  left  that  gift, 

And  went  upon  his  way. 

How  many  hearts  Thou  might'ft  have  had 

More  innocent  than  mine  ! 
How  many  souls  more  worthy  far 

Of  that  sweet  touch  of  thine  ! 

Ah  Grace  !  into  unlikelieft  hearts 

It  is  thy  boaft  to  come, 
The  glory  of  thy  light  to  find 

In  darkeft  spots  a  home. 

How  will  they  di®,  how  will  they  die, 

How  bear  the  cross  of  grief, 
Who  have  not  got  the  light  of  faith, 

The  courage  of  belief? 

The  crowd  of  cares,  the  weightier!:  cross 
Seem  trifles  less  than  light, — 

Earth  looks  so  little  and  so  low 
When  faith  mines  full  and  bright. 

O  happy,  happy  that  I  am  ! 

If  thou  canft  be,  O   Faith  ! 
The  treasure  that  thou  art  in  life, 

What  wilt  thou  be  in  death  ? 


36  Self-Consecration. 


Thy  choice,  O  God  of  Goodness  !  then 

I  lovingly  adore  ; 
O  give  me  grace  to  keep  thy  grace, 

And  grace  to  merit  more  ! 

Faber. 


PRAYER   OF   THE   CONTRITE   SINNER. 

HAVE  mercy  Thou,  mod  gracious  God  ! 
And  my  remittance  fign  ; 
The  more  thy  mercy  (hall  accord, 
The  greater  glory  thine. 

Thou  surely  haft  not  said  in  vain  : 

"  More  joy  in  heaven  is  made, 
For  the  loft  iheep  that's  found  again, 

Than  those  which  never  stray'd." 

Help'd  by  thy  grace,  no  more  I'll  stray, 

No  more  refift  thy  voice  ; 
Where  Thou,  good  Shepherd,  lead'ft  the  way, 

That  way  fhall  be  my  choice. 

Too  long,  alas  !   my  wand'ring  feet 

The  crooked  paths  have  trod  ; 
Henceforth  I'll  follow,  as  is  meet, 

The  sure  unerring  road. 


Self-Consecration.  37 


If  casual  falls  retard  my  pace, 
With  speed  again  I'll  rise  ; 

With  speed  I'll  reassume  my  race, 
And  run  and  gain  the  prize. 

All  praise,  O  Lord,  to  Thee  alone, 

Below,  as  'tis  above  : 
And  may  thy  joys,  Eternal  One, 

Both  draw  and  crown  my  love. 


HYMN    OF   ST.    FRANCIS    XAVIER. 
O  Deus,  ego  amo  Tc. 

MY  God,  I  love  Thee,  not  because 
I  hope  for  Heaven  thereby ; 
Nor  because  they  who  love  Thee  not, 
Must  burn  eternally. 

Thou,  O   my  Jesus,  Thou  didft  me 

Upon  the  Cross  embrace  ; 
For  me  didft  bear  the  nails  and  spear, 

And  manifold  disgrace  ; 

And  griefs  and  torments  numberless  ; 

And  sweat  of  agony  ; 
E'en  death  itself — and  all  for  one 

Who  was  thine  enemy. 


38  Self-Consecration. 

Then  why,  O  bleffed  Jesu  Chrift  ! 

Should  I  not  love  Thee  well ; 
Not  for  the  sake  of  winning  Heaven, 

Or  of  escaping  Hell  : 

Not  with  the  hope  of  gaining  aught ; 

Not  seeking  a  reward  ; 
But,  as  Thyself  haft  loved  me, 

O  ever-loving  Lord  ? 

E'en  so  I  love  Thee,  and  will  love, 
And  in  thy  praise  will  fing  ; 

Solely  because  Thou  art  my  God, 
And  my  eternal  King. 

Missal. 


Trust. 


39 


TRUST. 


THE   RIGHT   MUST  WIN. 

OIT  is  hard  to  work  for  God, 
To  rise  and  take  his  part 
Upon  this  battle-field  of  earth, 
And  not  sometimes  lose  heart! 

He  hides   Himself  so  wondroufly, 
As  though  there  were  no  God  ; 

He  is  leaft  seen  when  all  the  powers 
Of  ill  are  moll:  abroad  : 

Or  He  deserts  us  at  the  hour 

The  fight  is  all  but  loft  ; 
And  seems  to  leave  us  to  ourselves 

Juft  when  we  need  Him  molt. 

O  there  is  less  to  try  our  faith, 

In  our  myfterious  creed, 
Than  in  the  godless  look  of  earth 

In  these  our  hours  of  need. 


4o 

Trust. 

Ill  mafters  good  ;  good  seems  to  change 

To  ill  with  greateft  ease  ; 

And,  word  of  all,  the  good  with  good 

Is  at  cross  purposes. 

The  Church,  the  Sacraments,  the  Faith, 

Their  uphill  journey  take, 

Lose  here  what  there  they  gain,  and,  if 

We  lean  upon  them,  break. 

It  is  not  so,  but  so  it  looks  ; 

And  we  lose  courage  then 
And  doubts  will  come  if  God  hath  kept 
His  promises  to  men. 

Ah  !  God  is  other  than  we  think  ; 

His  ways  are  far  above, 
Far  beyond  reason's  height,  and  reach'd 

Only  by  childlike  love. 

The  look,  the  fafhion  of  God's  ways 

Love's  lifelong  ftudy  are  ; 
She  can  be  bold,  and  guess,  and  act, 

When  reason  would  not  dare. 

She  has  a  prudence  of  her  own  ; 

Her  ftep  is  firm  and  free  ; 
Yet  there   is   cautious  science  too 

In  her  simplicity. 


Trust. 

Workman  of  God  !   O  lose  not  heart, 
But  learn  what  God  is  like  ; 

And  in  the  darkeft  battle-field 

Thou  fhalt  know  where  to  ftrike. 

O  bless'd  is  he  to  whom  is  given 

The  inftincT:  that  can  tell 
That  God  is  on  the  field,  when  He 

Is  moft  invisible  ! 

And  bless'd  is  he  who  can  divine 

Where  real  right  doth  lie, 
And  dares  to  take  the  side  that  seems 

Wrong  to  man's  blindfold  eye  ! 

O  learn  to  scorn  the  praise  of  men  ! 

O  learn  to  lose  with  God  ! 
For  Jesus  won  the  world  through  fhame, 

And  beckons  thee  his  road. 

God's  glory  is  a  wondrous  thing, 

Moft  ftrange  in  all  its  ways, 
And,  of  all  things  on  earth,  leaft  like 

What  men  agree  to  praise. 

As  He  can  endless  glory  weave 
From  time's  misjudging  shame, 

In  his  own  world  He  is  content 
To  play  a  lofing  game. 


42  Trust. 

Muse  on  his  juftice,  downcaft  Soul! 

Muse  and  take  better  heart ; 
Back  with  thine  angel  to  the  field, 

Good  luck  fhall  crown  thy  part! 

God's  juftice  is  a  bed  where  we 

Our  anxious  hearts  may  lay, 
And,  weary  with  ourselves,  may  sleep 

Our  discontent  away. 

For  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God  ; 

And  right  the  day  muft  win  ; 
To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 

To  falter  would  be  sin  ! 

Faber. 


Trust.  43 


SURSUM   CORDA. 

LIFT  up  your  hearts!"    Yes,  I  will  lift 
My  heart  and  soul,  dear  Lord,  to  Thee 
Who  every  good  and  perfect  gift 
Vouchsaf'fl  so  lavifhly  and  free. 

All  that  is  beft,  from  Thee  comes  down 
On  us,  with  rich  and  ample  ftore, 

Thy  bounteous  hands  our  wilhes  crown 
With  good,  increasing  more  and  more. 

'Twas  Thou  that  gave  us  life  and  breath, 
It  is  thy  hand  that  holds  us  frill, 

That  keeps  us  from  the  fleep  of  death, 
And  fhelters  us  from  every  ill. 

Yea,  more  than  corporal  life, — thy  love 
Has  promise  given  of  life  to  come  ; 

And  taught  us,  by  the  faith,  above 
All  ills  to  soar,  and  burft  the  tomb. 

Then,  while  I  live,  with  ardent  eye, 
Let  me  look  up  to  Thee,  and  learn, 

From  bleflings  here,  to  look  on  high, 
And  purer  bleflings  there  discern  ! 


44 


Trust. 

All  Thou  haft  given  is  thine,  then   take 
Me,  thine  own  gift,  for  all  thine  own, 

And  teach   me  every  day  to  make 
New  vows  of  love  to  Thee  alone ! 


GOD  AND  HEAVEN. 

THE  silver  chord  in  twain  is  snapp'd 
The  golden  bowl  is  broken, 
The  mortal  mould  in  darkness  wrapp'd, 

The  words  funereal  spoken  ; 
The  tomb  is  built,  or  the  rock  is  cleft, 

Or  delved  is  the  grafly  clod, 
And  what  for  mourning  man  is  left  ? 
O  what  is  left — but  God  ! 

The  tears  are  fhed  that  mourn'd  the  dead, 

The  flowers  they  wore  are  faded  ; 
The  twilight  dun  hath  veil'd  the  sun, 

And  hope's  sweet  dreamings  {haded  : 
And  the  thoughts  of  joy  that  were  planted  deep, 

From  our  heart  of  hearts  are  riven  ; 
And  what  is  left  us  when  we  weep  ? 

O  what  is  left — but  Heaven  ! 


Trust. 


THE   WILL   OF   GOD. 

"  'Thy  iv ill  be  done.'''' 

I  WORSHIP  thee,  sweet  Will  of  God! 
And  all  thy  ways  adore, 
And  every  day  I  live  I  seem 
To  love  thee  more  and  more. 

Thou  wert  the  end,  the  bleffed  rule 

Of  Jesu's  toils  and  tears  ; 
Thou  wert  the  paflion  of  his  Heart 

Those  Three-and-Thirty  years. 

And  He  hath  breathed  into  my  soul 

A  special  love  of  thee, 
A  love  to  lose  my  will  in  his 

And  by  that  loss  be  free. 

I  love  to  see  thee  bring  to  naught 

The  plans  of  wily  men  ; 
When  fimple  Hearts  outwit  the  wise, 

O  thou  art  loveliest  then  ! 

The  headftrong  world,  it  prefTes  hard 

Upon  the  Church  full  oft, 
And  then  how  eafily  thou  turn'ft 

The  hard  ways  into  soft. 


45 


46  Trust. 

I  love  to  kiss  each  print  where  thou 
Haft  set  thine  unseen  feet  : 

I  cannot  fear  thee,  blefled  Will ! 
Thine  empire  is  so  sweet. 

When  obftacles  and  trials  seem 

Like  prison-walls  to  be, 
I  do  the  little  1  can  do, 

And  leave  the  reft  to  thee. 

I  have  no  cares,  O  Hefted  Will ! 

For  all  my  cares  are  thine  ; 
I  live  in  triumph,  Lord  !  for  Thou 

Haft  made  thy  triumphs  mine. 

And  when  it  seems  no  chance  or  change 
From  grief  can  set  me  free, 

Hope  finds  its  ftrength  in  helpleflhess, 
And  gaily  waits  on  thee. 

Man's  weakness  waiting  upon  God 

Its  end  can  never  miss, 
For  men  on  earth  no  work  can  do 

More  angel-like  than  this. 

Ride  on,   ride  on  triumphantly, 
Thou  glorious  Will !  ride  on  ; 

Faith's   pilgrim   sons  behind   thee   take 
The  road  that  thou  haft  gone. 


Trust. 

He  always  wins  who  sides  with  God, 

To  him  no  chance  is  loft  ; 
God's  will  is  sweetest  to  him  when 

It  triumphs  at  his  coft. 

Ill  that  He  'bleffes  is  our  good, 

And  unbleft  good  is  ill  ; 
And  all  is  right  that  seems  moft  wrong, 

If  it  be  His  sweet  Will ! 


47 


Faber. 


H 


Dies  ira,  dies  ilia. 

[Crashaw's  Translation.] 

EAR'ST  thou,  my  soul,  what  serious  things 
Both  the  Psalm  and  Sibyl  lings, 


Of  a  sure  Judge,   from  whose  fharp  ray 
The  world  in  flames  mail  pass  away  ? 

O  that  fire  !  before  whose  face, 
Heaven  and  Earth  fhall  find  no  place  ; 
O  these  eyes!  whose  angry  light 
Muft  be  the  day  of  that  dread  night. 

O  that  trump  !  whose  blaft  fhall  run 
An  even  round  with  th'  circling  sun, 
And  urge  the  murmuring  graves  to  bring 
Pale  mankind  forth  to  meet  his  Kins:. 


48  Trust. 

Horror  of  nature,  hell  and  death  ! 
When  a  deep  groan  as  from  beneath 
Shall  cry,  "We  come!  we  come!"  and  all 
The  caves  of  night  answer  one  call. 

O  that  book!  whose  leaves  so  bright, 
Will  set  the  world  in  severe  light : 
O  that  Judge  !  whose  hand,  whose  eye, 
None  can  endure — yet  none  can  fly. 

Ah  !  thou  poor  soul,  what  wilt  thou  say  ? 
And  to  what  patron  choose  to  pray  ? 
When  ftars  themselves  fhall  ftagger,  and 
The  moft  firm  foot  no  more  than  ftand. 

But  thou  givefr.  leave,  dread  Lord,  that  we 
Take  fhelter  from  Thyself  in  Thee  ; 
And,  with  the  wings  of  thine  own  dove, 
Fly  to  the  sceptre  of  soft  love. 


Trust. 


MY   GOD    AND    MY   ALL. 


Deus  mens  ct  omnia. 


49 


WHILE  Thou,  O  my  God,  art  my  help  and  defender, 
No  cares  can  o'erwhelm  me,  no  terrors  appall ; 
The  wiles  and  the  snares  of  this  world  will  but  render 
More  lively  my  hope  in  my  God  and  my  all. 

Yes  ;  Thou  art  my  refuge  in  sorrow  and  danger ; 

My  ftrength  when  I  suffer  ;  my  hope  when  I  fall  ; 
My  comfort  and  joy  in  this  land  of  the  ftranger ; 

My  treasure,  my  glory,  my  God,  and  my  all. 

To  Thee,  deareft  Lord,  will  I  turn  without  ceafing, 
Though  grief  may  oppress  me,  or  sorrow  befall ; 

And  love  Thee,  till  death,  my  bleft  spirit  releafing, 
Secures  to  me  Jesus,  my  God  and  my  all. 

And  when  Thou  demanded  the  life  Thou  haft  given, 
With  joy  will  I  answer  thy  merciful  call ; 

And  quit  Thee  on  earth,  but  to  find  Thee  in  heaven, 
My  portion  forever,  my  God  and  my  all. 

W.   Young. 


50  Prayer. 


PRAYER. 


Tclluris  alme  conditor. 

O   BOUNTEOUS  Framer  of  the  globe  ! 
Who  with  thy  mighty  hand 
Didft  gather  up  the  rolling  seas, 
And  firmly  base  the  land  : 

That  so  the  frefhly  teeming  earth 

Might  herb  and  seedling  bear, 
Standing  in  early  beauty  gay, 

With  flowers  and  fruitage  fair  : 

On  our  parch'd  souls  pour  Thou,  O   Lord, 

The  frefhness  of  thy  grace  ; 
So  penitence  fhall  spring  anew, 


And  all  the  paft  efface. 

Grant  us  to  fear  thy  holy  law, 
To  feel  thy  goodness  nigh  ; 

Grant  us  through  life  thy  peace  ; 
Thine  immortality. 

ill   death 

Breviary. 

Prayer.  5 1 


WHIT-SUNDAY. 
Ven't  Sancte  Spiritus. 

HOLY  Spirit !  Lord  of  light ! 
From  thy  clear  celeftial  height, 
Thy  pure  beaming  radiance  give  : 

Come,  Thou  Father  of  the  poor  ! 
Come,  with  treasures  which  endure  ! 
Come,  Thou  Light  of  all  that  live 

Thou,  of  all  consolers  beft, 
Viftting  the  troubled  breaft, 
Doft  refrefhing  peace  beftow  ; 

Thou  in  toil  art  comfort  sweet ; 
Pleasant  coolness  in  the  heat ; 
Solace  in  the  midfr.  of  woe. 

Light  immortal !  light  divine  ! 
Vifit  Thou  these  hearts  of  thine, 
And  our  inmoft  being  fill  : 

If  Thou  take  thy  grace  away, 
Nothing  pure   in   man  will  ftay  ; 
All  his  good  is  turned  to  ill. 


52  Prayer. 

Heal  our  wounds, — our  ftrength  renew 
On  our  dryness  pour  thy  dew  ; 
Wafh  the  ftains  of  guilt  away  : 

Bend  the  ftubborn  heart  and  will ; 
Melt  the  frozen,  warm  the  chill  ; 
Guide  the  fteps  that  go  aftray. 

Thou,  on  those  who  evermore 
Thee  confess  and  Thee  adore, 
In  thy  sevenfold  gifts,  descend  : 

Give  them  comfort  when  they  die  ; 

Give  them  life  with  Thee  on  high  ; 

Give  them  joys  which  never  end. 


Missal. 


Veni  Creator. 


CREATOR  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 
The  world's  foundations  firft  were  laid, 
Come  vifit  every  pious  mind  ; 
Come  pour  thy  joys  on  human  kind  ; 
From  fin  and  sorrow  set  us  free 
And  make  thy  temples  worthy  Thee. 

O  source  of  uncreated  light 
The  Father's  promised   Paraclete  ! 


Prayer.  53 

Thrice  holy  fount,  thrice  holy  fire, 
Our  hearts  with  heavenly  love  inspire  : 
Come,  and  thy  sacred  unction  bring, 
To  sanctify  us  while  we  fing. 

Plenteous  of  grace,  descend  from  high, 

Rich  in  thy  sevenfold  energy  ! 

Thou  ftrength  of  his  Almighty  hand, 

Whose  power  does  heaven  and  earth  command, 

Proceeding  Spirit,  our  defence, 

Who  doft  the  gift  of  tongues  dispense, 

And  crown  thy  gift  with  eloquence  ! 

Refine  and  purge  our  earthly  parts  : 
But  oh  !   inflame  and  fire  our  hearts  : 
Our  frailties  help,  our  vice  control — 
Submit  the  senses  to  the  soul  : 
And  when  rebellious  they  are  grown, 
Then  lay  thy  hand,  and  hold  them  down. 

Chase  from  our  minds  th'  infernal  foe, 
And  peace,  the  fruit  of  love,  beftow  ; 
And  left  our  feet  fhould  ftep  aftray, 
Protect  and  guide  us  in  the  way. 

Make  us  eternal  truth  receive, 
And  practise  all  that  we  believe  : 
Give  us  Thyself,  that  we  may  see 
The  Father,  and  the  Son,  by  Thee. 

Tranjlated  by  Dry  den. 


54  Prayer. 


LENT. 

Audi  ben'igne  Conditor. 

THOU  loving  Maker  of  mankind, 
Before  thy  throne  we  pray  and  weep  ; 
Oh,  ftrengthen  us  with  grace  divine, 
Duly  this  sacred  Lent  to  keep. 

Searcher  of  hearts  !  Thou  doft  our  ills 
Discern,  and  all  our  weakness  know : 

Again  to  Thee  with  tears  we  turn  ; 
Again  to  us  thy  mercy  fhow. 

Much  have  we  finn'd  ;  but  we  confess 
Our  guilt,  and  all  our  faults  deplore  : 

Oh,  for  the  praise  of  thy  great  Name, 
Our  fainting  souls  to  health  reftore  ! 

And  grant  us,  while  by  fads  we  ftrive 

This  mortal  body  to  control, 
To  faft   from  all  the   food   of  fin, 

And  so  to  purify  the  soul. 

Hear  us,  O  Trinity  thrice  bleft  ! 

Sole  Unity!   to  Thee  we  cry: 
Vouchsafe  us  from  these  fafts  below 

To  reap  immortal   fruit  on   high. 

Breviary. 


Prayer.  55 


Magna  Deus  potentia. 

LORD  of  all  power!  at  whose  command, 
The  waters,  from  their  teeming  womb, 
Brought  forth  the  countless  tribes  of  fifh, 
And  birds  of  every  note  and  plume  : 

Who  didft,  for  natures  link'd  in  birth, 

Far  different  homes  of  old  prepare  ; 
Sinking  the  fifties  in  the  sea  ; 

Lifting  the  birds  aloft  in  air. 

Lo  !  born  of  thy  baptismal  wave, 

We  ask  of  Thee,  O  Lord  divine! 
"Keep  us,  whom  Thou  haft  sanctified 

In  thy  own  Blood,  forever  thine. 

"  Safe  from  all  pride,  as  from  despair  ; 

Not  sunk  too  low,  nor  raised  too  high 
Left  raised  by  pride,  we  headlong  fall  ; 

Sunk  in  despair,  lie  down  and  die." 

Breviary. 


Encouragement. 


ENCOURAGEMENT. 


JESUS. 


THE  light  of  love  is  round  his  feet, 
His  paths  are  never  dim  ; 
And  He  comes  nigh  to  us  when  we 
Dare  not  come  nigh  to   Him. 

Let  us  be  simple  with   Him  then, 
Not  backward,  ftiff,  or  cold, 

As  though  our  Bethlehem  could  be 
What  Sinai  was  of  old. 

His  love  of  us  may  teach  us  how 

To  love  Him  in  return  ; 
Love  cannot  help  but  grow  more  free 

The  more  its  transports  burn. 

The  solemn  face,  the  downcaft  eye, 
The  words  conltrain'd   and   cold, — 

These  are  the  homage,  poor  at  bell, 
Of  those  outfide   the   fold. 


Encouragement.  5  7 


O  that  they  knew  what  Jesus  was, 

And  what  untold  abyss 
Lies  in  love's  fimple  forwardness 

Of  more  than  earthly  bliss  ! 

O  that  they  knew,  what  faith  can  work  ! 

What  Sacraments  can  do  ! 
What  fimple  love  is  like,  on  fire 

In  hearts  absolved  and  true  ! 

How  can  they  tell  how  Jesus  oft 

His  secret  thirft  will  flake, 
On  those  ftrange  freedoms  childlike  hearts 

Are  taught  by  God  to  take  ? 

Poor  souls !  they  know  not  how  to  love  ; 

They  feel  not  Jesus  near  ; 
And  they  who  know  not  how  to  love 

Still  less  know  how  to  fear. 

The  humbling  of  the  Incarnate  Word 

They  have  not  faith  to  face  ; 
And  how  shall  they  who  have  not  faith 


The  awe  that  lies  too  deep  for  words, 
Too  deep  for  solemn  looks, — 

It  finds  no  way  into  the  face, 
No  spoken  vent  in  books. 


58  Encouragement. 


They  would  not  speak  in  measured  tones, 

If  love  had  in  them  wrought 
Until  their  spirits  had  been  hufh'd 

In  reverential  thought. 

They  would  have  smiled  in  playful  ways 

To  ease  their  fervid  heart, 
And  learn'd  with  other  fimple  souls 

To  play  love's  crafty  part. 

They  would  have  run  away  from  God 

For  their  own  vileness'   sake, 
And  fear'd  left  some  interior  light 

From  tell-tale  eyes  mould  break. 

They  know  not  how  the  outward  smile 

The  inward  awe  can  prove  ; 
They  fathom  not  the  creature's  fear 

Of  Uncreated  Love. 

The  majefty  of  God  ne'er  broke 

On  them  like  fire  at  night, 
Flooding  their  ftricken  souls,  while  they 

Lay  trembling  in  the  light. 

They  love  not ;   for  they  have  not  kiss'd 

The  Saviour's  outer  hem  : 
They  fear  not  ;   for  the  Living  God 

Is  yet  unknown  to  them  ! 

Faber. 


Encouragement.  50 


~l 


OOLDIERS  of  Chrift!  arise! 

^   And  put  your  armor  on, 

Strong  in  the  ftrength  which  God  supplies 

Through   his  eternal  Son  ; 
Strong  is  the  Lord  of  bofts, 

And  in  his  mighty  power, 
Who  in  the  ftrength  of  Jesus  trufts, 

Is  more  than  conqueror. 

Soldiers  of  Chrift  !  arise  ! 

The  God  of  armies  calls 
Unto  his  manfions  in  the  fkies — 

His  everlafting  halls  : 
Behold  !  the  angel  hoft  appears 

To  welcome  you   to  bliss  ; 
Oh  !  what  is  earth,  its  fighs,  and  tears, 

Its  joys  compared  to  this  ! 

Crufh'd  is  the  haughty  foe, 

His  might,  his  glory  gone, 
But  ye  with  victory  crown'd,  mail  go 

To  Chrift's  eternal  throne. 
There  fhall  the  conqueror  reft, 

And  in  that  bleft  abode, 
Forever  reign  amid  the  bleft, 

Triumphant  with  his  God. 


6o  Encouragement. 


MARY   MAGDALEN. 

TO  the  hall  of   the   feaft  came  the  finful  and  fair  ; 
She  heard  in  the  city  that  Jesus  was  there  ; 
She  mark'd  not  the  splendor  that  blazed  on  their  board  ; 
But  filently  knelt  at  the  feet  of  her  Lord. 

The  hair  from  her  forehead,  so  sad  and  so  meek, 
Hung  dark  o'er  the  blushes  that  burn'd  on  her  cheek  ; 
And  so  frill  and  so  lowly  fhe  bent  in  her  fhame, 
It  seem'd  as  her  spirit  had  flown  from  its  frame. 

The  frown  and  the  murmur  went  round  through  them  all, 
That  one  so  unhallow'd  fhould  tread  in  that  hall ; 
And  some  said  the  poor  would  be  objects  more  meet 
For  the  wealth  of  the  perfumes  fhe  fhower'd  at  his  feet. 

She  mark'd  but  her  Saviour,  fhe  spoke  but  in  fighs, 
She  dared  not  look  up  to  the  heaven  of  his  eyes  ; 
And  the  hot  tears  gufh'd  forth  at  each  heave  of  her  bread, 
As  her  lips  to  his  sandals  fhe  throbbingly  prefT'd. 

On  the  cloud,  after  tempefts,  as  fhineth  the  bow, 
In  the  glance  of  the  sun-beam,  as  melteth  the  snow, 
He  look'd  on  that  loft  one — her  fins  were  forgiven  ; 
And  Mary  went  forth  in  the  beauty  of  heaven. 

Cat  Li  nan. 


Self-Examination.  6 1 


SELF-EXAMINATION. 


THE   GIFTS   OF   GOD. 

MY  soul !  what  haft  thou  done  for  God  ? 
Look  o'er  thy  miflpent  years  and  see  ; 
Sum  up  what  thou  haft  done  for  God, 
And  then  what  God  hath  done  for  thee. 

He  made  thee  when   He  might  have  made 
A  soul  that  would  have  loved  Him  more ; 

He  rescued  thee  from  nothingness, 
And  set  thee  on  life's  happy  more. 

He  placed  an  angel  at  thy  fide, 

And  ftrewed  joys  round  thee  on  thy  way  ; 
He  gave  thee  rights  thou  couldft  not  claim, 

And  life,  free  life,  before  thee  lay. 

Had  God  in  heaven  no  work  to  do 

But  miracles  of  love  for  thee  ? 
No  world  to  rule,  no  joy  in  Self 

And  in  his  own  infinity  ? 


62  Self-Examination. 


So  muft  it  seem  to  our  blind  eyes  : 
He  gave  his  love  no  Sabbath  reft, 

Still  plotting  happiness  for  men, 

And  new  defigns  to  make  them  bleft. 

From  out  his  glorious  Bosom  came 

His  only,  his  Eternal  Son  ; 
He  freed  the  race  of  Satan's  slaves, 

And  with  his  Blood  fin's  captives  won. 

The  world  rose  up  againft  his  love  ; 

New  love  the  vile  rebellion  met, 
As  though  God  only  loolc'd  at  fin 

Its  guilt  to  pardon  and  forget. 

For  his  Eternal  Spirit  came 

To  raise  the  thankless  flaves  to  sons, 
And  with  the  sevenfold  gifts  of  love 

To  crown  his  own  elected  ones. 

Men  spurned  his  grace  ;  their  lips  blasphemed 
The  love  that  made  itself  their  flave  : 

They  grieved  that  blefTed  Comforter, 

And  turned  againft   Him  what   He  gave. 

Yet  ftill  the  sun  is  fair  by  day, 
The  moon  ftill  beautiful  by  night ; 

The  world  goes  round,  and  joy  with   it, 
And  life,  free  life,  is  man's  delight. 


Self- Examination.  63 


No  voice  God's  wondrous  filence  breaks, 
No  hand  put  forth  his  anger  tells  ; 

But  He,  the  Omnipotent  and  Dread, 
On  high  in  humbleft  patience  dwells. 

The  Son  hath  come  ;  and  maddened  fin 
The  world's  Redeemer  crucified  ; 

The  Spirit  comes,  and  ftays,  while  men 
His  presence  doubt,  his  gifts  deride. 

And  now  the  Father  keeps  Himself 

In  patient  and  forbearing  love, 
To  be  his  creature's  heritage 

In  that  undying  life  above. 

O  wonderful,  O   pairing  thought, 

The  love  that  God  hath  had  for  thee  ! 

Spending  on  thee  no  less  a  sum 
Than  the  Undivided  Trinity  ! 

Father,  and  Son,  and  Holy  Ghofr, 
Exhaufted  for  a  thing  like  this, — 

The  world's  whole  government  disposed 
For  one  ungrateful  creature's  bliss  ! 

What  haft  thou  done  for  God,  my  soul  ? 

Look  o'er  thy  miflpent  years  and  see  ; 
Cry  from  thy  worse  than  nothingness, 

Cry  for  his  mercy  upon  thee! 

Faber. 


64  Self-Examination. 


SWEETNESS    IN    PRAYER. 

WHY  doft  thou  beat  so  quick,  my  heart  ? 
Why  flruggle  in  thy  cage  ? 
What  fhall  I  do  for  thee,  poor  heart ! 
Thy  throbbing  heat  to  suage  ? 

What  spell  is  this  come  over  thee  ? 

My  soul !  what  sweet  surprise  ? 
And  wherefore  these  unbidden  tears 

That  ftart  into  mine  eyes  ? 

How  are  my  paflions  laid  to  fleep, 

How  easy  penance  seems  ! 
And  how  the  bright  world  fades  away — 

0  are  they  all  but  dreams  ? 

How  great,  how  good  does  God  appear, 

How  dear  our  holy  faith  ! 
How  tafteless  life's  beft  joys  have  grown ! 

How  I  could  welcome  death  ! 

Thy  sweetness  hath  betrayed  Thee,  Lord ! 

Dear  Spirit !  it  is  Thou  ; 
Deeper  and  deeper  in  my  heart 

1  feel  Thee  neftlins  now. 


Self-Examination.  65 


Whence  Thou  haft  come  I  need  not  afk ; 

But,  O  moft  gentle  Dove  ! 
O  wherefore  haft  Thou  lit  on  one 

That  so  repays  thy  love  ? 

Ah  !   that  Thou  mighteft  ftay  with  me, 

Or  else  that  I   might  die 
While  heart  and  soul  are  ftill  subdued 

With  thy  sweet  maftery. 

Thy  home  is  with  the  humble,  Lord ! 

The  fimple  are  thy  reft  ; 
Thy  lodging  is  in  childlike  hearts  ; 

Thou  makeft  there  thy  neft. 

Dear  Comforter !  Eternal  Love  ! 

If  Thou  wilt  ftay  with  me, 
Of  lowly  thoughts  and  fimple  ways 

I'll  build  a  neft  for  Thee. 

My  heart,  sweet  Dove !  I'll  lend  to  Thee 

To  mourn  with  at  thy  will  ; 
My  tongue  fhall  be  thy  lute  to  try 

On  finners'  souls  thy  fkill. 

Who  made  this  beating  heart  of  mine, 

But  Thou  my  heavenly  Gueft  ? 
Let  no  one  have  it  then  but  Thee, 

And  let  it  be  thy  neft. 

Faber. 


J 


66  Self-Examination. 


DRYNESS    IN    PRAYER. 

OFOR  the  happy  days  gone  by, 
When  love  ran  smooth  and  free, 
Days  when  my  Spirit  so  enjoy'd 
More  than  earth's  liberty ! 

O  for  the  times  when  on  my  heart 

Long  prayer  had  never  pall'd, 
Times  when  the  ready  thought  of  God 

Would  come  when  it  was  call'd ! 

Then  when  I  knelt  to  meditate, 
Sweet  thoughts  came  o'er  my  soul, 

Countless  and  bright  and  beautiful, 
Eeyond  my  own  control. 

O  who  hath  lock'd  those  fountains  up  ? 

Those  vifions  who  hath  fray'd  ? 
What  sudden  act  hath  thus  transform'd 

My  sunfhine  into  made  ? 

This  freezing  heart,  O   Lord !  this  will 

Dry  as  the  desert  sand, 
Good  thoughts  that  will   not  come,   bad   thoughts 

That  come  without  command, — 


Self-Examination.  67 


A  faith  that  seems  not  faith,  a  hope 

That  cares  not  for  its  aim, 
A  love  that  none  the  hotter  grows 

At  Jesu's  blefTed  name, — 

The  weariness  of  prayer,  the  mift 

O'er  conscience  overspread, 
The  chill  repugnance  to  frequent 

The  Feaft  of  Angels'  Bread  : — 

If  this  drear  change  be  thine,  O  Lord  ! 

If  it  be  thy  sweet  will, 
Spare  not,  but  to  the  very  brim 

The  bitter  chalice  fill. 

But  if  it  hath  been  fin  of  mine, 

0  fhow  that  fin  to  me, 

Not  to  get  back  the  sweetness  loft, 
But  to  make  peace  with  Thee. 

One  thing  alone,  dear  Lord !  I  dread  ;— 

To  have  a  secret  spot 
That  separates  my  soul  from  Thee, 

And  yet  to  know  it  not. 

0  when  the  tide  of  graces  set 
So  full  upon  my  heart, 

1  know,  dear  Lord  !   how  faithlessly 

1  did   my  little  part. 


68  Self-Examination. 


I  know  how  well  my  heart  hath  earn'd 

A  chaftisement  like  this, 
In  trifling  many  a  grace  away 

In  self-complacent  bliss. 

But  if  this  weariness  hath  come 

A  present  from  on  high, 
Teach  me  to  find  the  hidden  wealth 

That  in  its  depths  may  lie. 

So  in  this  darkness  I  can  learn 

To  tremble  and  adore, 
To  sound  my  own  vile  nothingness, 

And  thus  to  love  Thee  more, — 

To  love  Thee,  and  yet  not  to  think 

That  I  can  love  so  much, — 
To  have  Thee  with  me,  Lord  !  all  day, 

Yet  not  to  feel  thy  touch. 

If  I  have  served  Thee,  Lord  !  for  hire, 

Hire  which  thy  beauty  fhow'd, 
Ah  !   I  can  serve  Thee  now  for  naught, 

And  only  as  my  God. 

O  blefled  be  this  darkness  then, 

This  deep  in  which  I  lie, 
And  blefled  be  all  things  that  teach 

God's  great  supremacy. 

Faber. 


Self-Examination.  69 


DISTRACTIONS    IN   PRAYER. 

AH  !  deareft  Lord  !   I  cannot  pray, 
My  fancy  is  not  free  ; 
Unmannerly  diffractions  come, 

And  force  my  thoughts  from  Thee. 

The  world  that  looks  so  dull  all  day 
Glows  bright  on  me  at  prayer, 

And  plans  that  afk  no  thought  but  then 
Wake  up  and  meet  me  there. 

All  nature  one  full  fountain  seems 

Of  dreamy  fight  and  sound, 
Which,  when  I  kneel,  breaks  up  its  deeps, 

And  makes  a  deluge  round. 

Old  voices  murmur  in  my  ear, 

New  hopes  ftart  into  life, 
And  paft  and  future  gayly  blend 

In  one  bewitching  ftrife. 

My  very  flefh  has  reftless  fits; 

My  changeful  limbs  conspire 
With  all  these  phantoms  of  the  mind 

My  inner  self  to  tire. 


70  Self- Examination. 


I  cannot  pray ;  yet,  Lord  !   Thou  know'ft 

The  pain  it  is  to  me 
To  have  my  vainly-ftruggling  thoughts 

Thus  torn  away  from  Thee. 

Prayer  was  not  meant  for  luxury, 

Or  -selfim  paftime  sweet  j 
It  is  the  proftrate  creature's  place 

At  his  Creator's  feet. 

Had  I,  dear  Lord  !  no  pleasure  found 

But  in  the  thought  of  Thee, 
Prayer  would  have  come  unsought,  and  been 

A  truer  liberty. 

Yet  Thou  art  eft  moft  present,  Lord  ! 

In  weak  diftra&ed  prayer  ; 
A  finner  out  of  heart  with  self 

Moft  often  finds  Thee  there. 

And  prayer  that  humbles,  sets  the  soul 

From  all  illufions  free, 
And  teaches  it  how  utterly, 

Dear  Lord  !  it  hangs  on  Thee. 

The  soul,  that  on  self-sacrifice 

Is  dutifully  bent, 
Will  bless  thy  chaftening  hand  that  makes 

Its  prayer  its  punimment. 


Self- Examination. 


Ah,  Jesus !  why  fhould  I  complain  ? 

And  why  fear  aught  but  fin  ? 
Diffractions  are  but  outward  things ; 

Thy  peace  dwells  far  within! 

These  surface-troubles  come  and  go, 

Like  rufflings  of  the  sea ; 
The  deeper  depth  is  out  of  reach 

To  all,  my  God,  but  Thee  ! 

Faber. 


r   PREPARATIVE   TO   PRAYER. 

WHEN  thou  doft  talk  with  God — by  prayer  I   mean- 
Lift  up  pure  hands,  lay  down  all  luft's  delires; 
Fix  thoughts  on  heaven,  present  a  conscience  clean  : 

Since  holy  blame  to  mercy's  throne  aspires, 
Confess  faults'  guilt,  crave  pardon  for  thy  fin, 
Tread  holy  paths,  call  grace  to  guide  therein. 

It  is  the  spirit  with  reverence  must  obey 

Our  Maker's  will,  to  practise  what  He  taught  : 

Make  not  the  flefh  thy  council  when  thou  pray  ; 
'Tis  enemy  to  every  virtuous  thought ; 

It  is  the  foe  we  daily  feed  and  clothe  ; 

It  is  the  prison  that  the  soul  doth  loathe. 


72  Self-Examination. 


Even  as  Elias,  mounting  to  the  iky, 

Did  caft  his  mantle  to  the  earth  behind  ; 

So,  when  the  heart  presents  the  prayer  on  high, 
Exclude  the  world  from  traffic  with  the  mind  : 

Lips  near  to  God,  and  ranging  heart  within, 

Is  but  vain  babbling,  and  converts  to  fin. 

As  Abraham,  ascending  up  the  hill 

To  sacrifice  ;  his  servants  left  below, 
That  he  might  acl:  the  great  Commander's  will, 

Without  impeach  to  his  obedient  blow  ; 
Even  so  the  soul,  remote  from  earthly  things, 
Should  mount  salvation's  fhelter — mercy's  wings. 

Southwell. 


Christ. 


CHRIST. 


73 


PASTOR    ANIMARUM. 

(From  the  Spanish.) 

COME,  wandering  fheep,  O  come ) 
I'll   bind  thee   to   my  breaft  ; 
I'll  bear  thee  to  thy  home, 
And  lay  thee  down  to  reft. 

I  saw  thee  ftray  forlorn, 
And  heard  thee  faintly  cry, 

And  on  the  tree  of  scorn 
For  thee  I  deign'd  to  die — 
What  greater  proof  could  I 

Give, — than  to  seek  the  tomb  ? 

Come,  wandering  fheep,  O  come  ! 

I  fhield  thee  from  alarms, 
And  wilt  thou  not  be  bleft  ? 

I   bear  thee  in  my  arms  ; 

Thou,  bear  me  in  thy  breaft  ! 
O,  this  is  love — come,  reft — 

This   is   a  blissful   doom. 

Come,  wandering  fheep,  O  come  ! 


7+ 


Christ. 


DOMUS   AUREA. 

LIGHT!    Light!    Infinite  Light! 
The  mountains  melted  away  : 
Ten  thousand  thousand  seraphim  bright 

Were  loft  in  a  blaze  of  day  : 
For  God  was  there,  and  beneath  his   feet 

A  pavement  of  sapphires  glow'd,* 
As  the  mirror  of  glory  transcendantly  meet 
To  reflect  his  own  abode  ! 

Love  !    Love  !    Infinite  Love  ! 

The  lowly  Lady  of  grace 
Bows  underneath  the  o'erfhadowing  Dove, 

Her  eternal  Son  to  embrace  ! 
For  God  is  there,  the  Ancient  of  Days, 

An  Infant  of  human  years  : 
Whilft  angels  around  them  inceflantly  gaze, 

And  nature  is  wrapt  in  tears  ! 

Peace  !    Peace  !    Infinite  Peace  ! 

A  Golden  House  hath  it  found, 
Whose  ineffable  beauty  muft  ever  increase 

With  immortality  crown'd ! 
For  God  was  there,  the  Lord  of  the  skies, 

Whose  loud  alleluias   ran, 
From  heaven  to  earth, — as   Emmanuel   lies 

In  the  arms  of  Mary  for  man  ! 

Brydges. 
*  Exodua  xxiv.  io. 


Christ.  75 


Jesu  dulc'is  metnoria. 

JESU  !    the  very  thought  of  Thee 
With  sweetness  fills  my  breaft  ; 
But  sweeter  far  thy  face  to  see, 
And  in  thy  presence  reft. 

Nor  voice  can  sing,  nor  heart  can  frame, 

Nor  can  the  memory  find, 
A  sweeter  sound  than  thy  bleft  name, 

O   Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

O  hope  of  every  contrite  heart, 

O  joy  of  all  the  meek, 
To  those  who  fall,  how  kind  Thou  art ! 

How  good  to  those  who  seek  ! 

But  what  to  those  who  find  ?     ah  !  this 
Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  : 

The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  his  loved  ones  know. 

Jesus  !    our  only  joy  be  Thou, 

As  Thou  our  prize  wilt  be ; 
Jesus  !    be  Thou  our  glory  now, 

And  through  eternity. 


Breviary. 


7  6  Christ. 


Jesu  Rex  admirabilis. 

O  JESUS  !    King  moft  wonderful ! 
Thou  Conqueror  renown'd  ! 
Thou  Sweetness  moft  ineffable  ! 
In  whom  all  joys  are  found  ! 

When  once  Thou  vifiteft  the  heart, 

Then  truth  begins  to  fhine  ; 
Then  earthly  vanities  depart ; 

Then  kindles  love  divine. 

O  Jesu  !    Light  of  all  below  ! 

Thou  Fount  of  life  and  fire  ! 
SurpafTing  all  the  joys  we  know, 

All  that  we  can  defire  : 

May  every  heart  confess  thy  name, 

And  ever  Thee  adore  ; 
And  seeking  Thee,  itself  inflame 

To  seek  Thee  more  and  more. 

Thee  may  our  tongues  forever  bless  ; 

Thee  may  we  love  alone  ; 
And  ever  in  our  lives  express 

The  image  of  thine  own. 

Breviary. 


Christ.  77 


Jesu  decus  angel 'i cum. 


OJESU  !  Thou  the  beauty  art 
Of  angel  worlds  above  ; 
Thy  name  is  mufic  to  the  heart, 
Enchanting  it  with  love. 

Celeftial  sweetness  unalloy'd  ! 

Who  eat  Thee  hunger  ftill  ; 
Who  drink  of  Thee  (till  feel  a  void, 

Which  naught  but  Thou  can  fill. 

O  my  sweet  Jesu  !  hear  the  fighs 

Which  unto  Thee  I  send  ; 
To  Thee  mine  inmoft  spirit  cries, 

My  being's  hope  and  end  ! 

Stay  with  us,  Lord,  and  with  thy  light 

Illume  the  soul's  abyss  ; 
Scatter  the  darkness  of  our  night, 

And  fill  the  world  with  bliss. 

O  Jesu  !  spotless  Virgin  flower  ! 

Our  life  and  joy  !   to  Thee 
Be  praise,  beatitude,  and  power, 

Through  all  eternity. 

Breviary. 


78  Christ. 


Marentes  oculi  spargite  lachrymas. 

NOW  let  us  fit  and  weep, 
And  fill  our  hearts  with  woe  : 
Pondering  the  fhame,  and  torments  deep, 
Which  Chrift  from  wicked  men  did  undergo. 

See  !  how  the  multitude, 
With  swords  and  ftaves,  draw  nigh  : 
See  !  how  they  smite,  with  buffets  rude, 
That  head  divine  of  awful  majefly  : 

How,  bound  with  cruel  cord, 
Chrift  to  the  scourge  is  given  ; 
And  ruffians  lift  their  hands,  unawed, 
Againft  the  King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Heaven. 

Then  roughly  dragg'd  to  death, 
Chrift  on  the  Cross  is  (lain  ; 
And,  as  He  dies,  with  parting  breath, 
Into  his  Father's  hands  gives  back  his  soul  again. 

To  Him  who  so  much  bore, 
To  gain  for  finners  grace, 
Be  praise  and  glory  evermore, 
From  the  whole   universal  human  race. 

Breviary. 


Christ. 


§lu'icunque  certum  quart tis. 

ALL  ye  who  seek  a  certain  cure 
In  trouble  and  diftress, 
Whatever  sorrow  vex  the  mind, 
Or  guilt  the  soul  oppress  : 

Jesus,  who  gave  Himself  for  you 

Upon  the  Cross  to  die, 
Opens  to  you  his  sacred  Heart, — 

Oh,  to  that  Heart  draw  nigh  ! 

Ye  hear  how  kindly  He  invites ; 

Ye  hear  his  words  so  bleft  ; — 
"  All  ye  that  labor,  come  to  Me, 

And  I  will  give  you  reft." 

What  meeker  than  the  Saviour's  Heart  ?- 

As  on  the  Cross  He  lay, 
It  did  his  murderers  forgive, 

And  for  their  pardon  pray. 

O  Heart !  thou  joy  of  Saints  on  high  ! 

Thou  Hope  of  finners  here  ! 
Attracted  by  those  loving  words, 

To  Thee  I  lift  my  prayer. 


79 


80  Christ. 

Warn  Thou  my  wounds  in  that  dear  Blood 
Which  forth  from  Thee  doth  flow  ; 

New  grace,  new  hope  inspire  ;  a  new 
And  better  heart  beltow. 

Breviary. 


Summi  Parentis  jilio. 

TO  Chrift,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
And  Son  of  God  moft  high, 
The  Father  of  the  world  to  come, — 
Sing  we  with  holy  joy. 

Deep  in  his  Heart  for  us 
The  wound  of  love  He  bore  ; — 
That  love,  which  frill  He  kindles  in 
The  hearts  that  Him  adore. 

O   Fount  of  endless  life  ! 
O   Spring  of  waters  clear! 
O  Flame  celeftial,  cleanfmg  all 
Who  unto  Thee  draw  near! 

Hide  me  in  thy  dear  Heart, 
For  thither  do  I   fly  ; 
There  seek  thy  grace  through  life,  in  death 
Thine   immortality. 

Breviary. 


Christ. 


JESUS   CRUCIFIED. 

OCOME  and  mourn  with  me  awhile  ; 
See,  Mary  calls  us  to  her  fide  ; 
O  come  and  let  us  mourn  with  her, — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Have  we  no  tears  to  fhed  for  Him, 
While  soldiers  scoff  and  Jews  deride  ? 

Ah  !  look  how  patiently  he  hangs, — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified ! 

His  Mother  cannot  reach  his  face ! 

She  ftands  in  helpleflhess  befide, 
Her  heart  is  martyr'd  with  her  Son's, — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Seven  times  He  spoke,  seven  words  of  love, 
And  all  three  hours  his  filence  cried 

For  mercy  on  the  souls  of  men  : — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified ! 

What  was  thy  crime,  my  deareft  Lord  ? 

By  earth,  by  heaven,  Thou  haft  been  tried, 
And  guilty  found  of  too  much  love  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified! 

F 


82  Christ. 

Found  guilty  of  excess  of  love, 

It  was  thine  own  sweet  will  that  tied 

Thee  tighter  far  than  helpless  nails  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Death  came,  and  Jesus  meekly  bow'd  ; 

His  failing  eyes  He  ftrove  to  guide 
With  mindful  love  to  Mary's  face  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

O  break,  O  break,  hard  heart  of  mine  ! 

Thy  weak  self-love  and  guilty  pride 
His  Pilate  and  his  Judas  were  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Come,  take  thy  ftand  beneath  the  Cross, 
And  let  the  blood  from  out  that  side 

Fall  gently  on  thee  drop  by  drop  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified ! 

A  broken  heart,  a  fount  of  tears, — 
Afk,  and  they  will  not  be  denied  ; 

A  broken  heart  love's  cradle  is  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

O  love  of  God  !   O  sin  of  Man  ! 

In  this  dread  acl  your  ftrength  is  tried 
And  victory  remains  with  love, 

For  He,  our 


Christ.  83 


EASTER. 

Ad  regias  agni  dapes. 

NOW  at  the  Lamb's  high  royal  feaft 
In  robes  of  saintly  white  we  fing, 
Through  the  Red  Sea  in  safety  brought 
By  Jesus  our  immortal  King. 

O  depth  of  love  !  for  us  He  drinks 

The  chalice  of  his  agony : 
For  us  a  victim  on  the  Cross 

He  meekly  lays  Him  down  to  die. 

And  as  the  avenging  Angel  pass'd 
Of  old  the  blood-besprinkled  door ; 

As  the  cleft  sea  a  paffage  gave, 

Then  closed  to  whelm  th'  Egyptians  o'er 

So  Chrift,  our  Paschal  Sacrifice, 

Has  brought  us  safe  all  perils  through  ; 

While  for  unleaven'd  bread  we  need 
But  heart  fincere  and  purpose  true. 

Hail,  pureft  victim  Heaven  could  find, 
The  powers  of  Hell  to  overthrow  ! 

Who  didft  the  chains  of  Death  deftroy  ; 
Who  doft  the  prize  of  Life  beftow. 


84  Christ. 


Hail,  vi&or  Chrift  !  hail,  risen  King  ! 

To  Thee  alone  belongs  the  crown  ; 
Who  haft  the  heavenly  gates  unbarr'd, 

And  dragg'd  the  Prince  of  darkness  down. 

O  Jesus  !   from  the  death  of  fin 

Keep  us  we  pray  ;  so  fhalt  Thou  be 

The  everlafting  Paschal  joy 

Of  all  the  souls  new-born  in  Thee. 

Breviary. 


LIGHT  of  the  Soul,  O  Saviour  bleft  ! 
Soon  as  thy  presence  fills  the  breaft, 
Darkness  and  guilt  are  put  to   flight, 
And  all  is  sweetness  and  delight. 

Son  of  the  Father  !  Lord  moft  high  ! 
How  glad  is  he  who  feels  Thee  nigh  ! 
How  sweet  in  Heaven  thy  beam  doth  glow, 
Denied  to  eye  of  flefh  below  ! 

O  Light  of  Light  celeftial  ! 

O  Charity  ineffable  ! 

Come  in  thy  hidden  majefty  ; 

Fill  us  with  love,  fill  us  with  Thee. 

Breviary. 


Christ.  85 


Dies  tree  dies  ilia. 

NIGHER  ftill,  and  ftill  more  nigh 
Draws  the  Day  of  Prophecy, 
Doom'd  to  melt  the  earth  and  iky. 

Oh,  what  trembling  there  fhall  be, 
When  the  world  its  Judge  fhall  see, 
Coming  in  dread  majefty  ! 

Hark !  the  trump,  with  thrilling  tone, 
From  sepulchral  regions  lone, 
Summons  all  before  the  throne  : 

Time  and  Death  it  doth  appall, 
To  see  the  buried  ages  all 
Rise  to  answer  at  the  call. 

Now  the  books  are  open  spread  ; 
Now  the  writing  muft  be  read, 
Which  condemns  the  quick  and  dead  : 

Now,  before  the  Judge  severe 
Hidden  things  muft  all  appear  ; 
Naught  can  pass  unpunifh'd  here. 


86  Christ. 

What  fhall  guilty  I  then  plead  ? 

Who  for  me  will  intercede, 

When  the  Saints  fhall  comfort  need  ? 

King  of  dreadful  Majefty  ! 
Who  doft  freely  juftify  ! 
Fount  of  Pity,  save  Thou  me ! 

Recollect,  O  Love  divine  ! 
'Twas  for  this  loft  fheep  of  thine 
Thou  thy  glory  didft  refign  : 

Sateft  wearied  seeking  me  ; 
Sufferedft  upon  the  tree  : 
Let  not  vain  thy  labor  be. 

Judge  of  Juftice,  hear  my  prayer ! 
Spare  me,  Lord,  in  mercy  spare! 
Ere  the  Reckoning-day  appear. 

Lo !  thy  gracious  face  I  seek  ; 
Shame  and  grief  are  on  my  cheek ; 
Sighs  and  tears  my  sorrow  speak. 

Thou  didft  Mary's  guilt  forgive  ; 
Didft  the  dying  thief  receive  ; 
Hence  doth  hope  within  me  live. 


Christ.  87 

Suppliant  in  the  duft  I  lie  ; 

My  heart  a  cinder,  crufh'd  and  dry  ; 

Help  me,  Lord,  when  death  is  nigh ! 

Full  of  tears,  and  full  of  dread, 
Is  the  day  that  wakes  the  dead, 
Calling  all,  with  solemn  blaft, 
From  the  afb.es  of  the  pari. 


Lord  of  mercy !  Jesu  bleft ! 
Grant  the  Faithful  light  and  reft. 


Missal. 


Salutis  humancs  Sator. 

OTHOU  pure  light  of  souls  that  love, 
True  joy  of  every  human  breaft, 
Sower  of  life's  immortal  seed, 

Our  Saviour  and  Redeemer  bleft  ! 

Be  Thou  our  guide,  be  Thou  our  goal ; 

Be  Thou  our  pathway  to  the  fkies ; 
Our  joy,  when  sorrow  fills  the  soul ; 

In  death  our  everlafting  prize. 

Breviary. 


Christ. 


ROCK    OF    AGES. 


ROCK  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ; 
Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 
From  thy  wounded  side  which  flowed, 
Be  of  sin  the  double  cure  ; 
Save  from  wrath  and  make  me  pure. 

In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  Cross  I  cling ; 
Naked  come  to  Thee  for  dress, 
Helpless  look  to  Thee  for  grace, 
Foul,  I  to  the  Fountain  fly  ; 
Wash   me,  Saviour,  or  I  die. 

While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyes  mall  close  in  death, 
When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And  behold  Thee  on  thy  throne  ; 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

Toplac 


Christ.  89 


THE   DAY   OF   JUDGMENT. 

Dies  ira,  dies  ilia. 

LO  !   He  comes  with  clouds  descending, 
Once  for  favor'd  Tinners  flain  : 
Thousand — thousand  saints  attending, 
Swell  the  triumph  of  his  train  : 
Alleluia  !  Alleluia  ! 
Jesus  Chrift  (hall  ever  reign  ! 

See  the  universe  in  motion, 

Sinking  on  her  funeral  pyre, — 
Earth  diffolving,  and  the  ocean 

Vanifhing  in  final  fire  : — 

Hark,  the  trumpet !   Hark,  the  trumpet ! 

Loud  proclaims  that  Day  of  Ire ! 

Graves  have  yawn'd  in  countless  numbers,- 

From  the  duft  the  dead  arise : 
Millions,  out  of  filent  (lumbers, 

Wake  in  overwhelm'd  surprise  ; 

Where  creation, — Where  creation, 

Wreck'd  and  torn  in  ruin  lies  ! 

See  the  Judge  our  nature  wearing, 

Pure,  ineffable,  divine  : — 
See  the  great  Archangel  bearing 


90  Christ. 


High  in  heaven  the  myftic  fign  : 
Cross  of  Glory !  Cross  of  Glory ! 
Chrift  be  in  that  moment  mine  ! 

See  Redemption,*  long  expe&ed, 
In  transcendant  pomp  appear, — 

All  his  saints  by  man  rejected, 

Throng  in  gathering  legions    near : 

Melt,  ye  mountains!  Melt,  ye  mountains! 

Into  smoke, — for  God  is  here! 

Every  eye  fhall  then  behold  Him 

Robed  in  awful  majefty  : — 
Those  that  set  at  naught,  and  sold  Him, 

Pierced  and  nail'd  Him  to  a  tree, — 

Deeply  wailing, — Deeply  wailing, 

Shall  the  true  Meffiah  see! 

Lo!  the  laft  long  separation! 

As  the  cleaving  crowds  divide  ; 
And  one  dread  adjudication 

Sends  each  soul  to  either  fide ! 

Lord  of  mercy!  Lord  of  mercy! 

How  fhall  I  that  day  abide ! 

Oh!  may  thine  own  Bride  and  Spirit 
Then  avert  a  dreadful  doom, — 

And  me  summon  to  inherit 
An   eternal  blissful   home  : — 
*  Romans  viii.  23. 


Christ.  9 1 

Ah  !  come  quickly  !  Ah  !  come  quickly  ! 
Let  thy  second  Advent  come  ! 

Yea,  Amen  !  Let  all  adore  Thee, 

On  thine  amaranthine  throne ! 
Saviour, — take  the  power  and  glory, 

Claim  the  kingdom  for  thine  own  ! 

Men  and  angels  :  Men  and  angels, 

Kneel  and  bow  to  Thee  alone  ! 

Brydges. 


Tinctam  ergo  Christi  sanguine. 

OH,  turn  those  bleffed  points,  all  bathed 
In  Jesu's  blood,   on   me  ; 
Mine  were  the  fins  that  wrought  his  death, 
Mine  be  the  penalty. 

Pierce  through  my  feet,  my  hands,  my  heart : 

So  may  some  drop  diftill 
Of  blood  divine,  into  my  soul, 

And  all  its  evils  heal. 


So  fhall  my 

feet  be  flow  to  fin, 

Harmless 

my  hands  fhall  be  ; 

So  from  my 

wounded  heart  fhall 

each 

Forbidden 

paflion  flee. 

Brev 

ary. 

92  Christ. 


MOST  HOLY   NAME   OF   JESUS. 

OH !  that  it  were  as  it  was  wont  to  be, 
When  thy  old  friends  of  fire,  all  full  of  Thee, 
Fought  againft  frowns  with  smiles  !  gave  glorious  chase 
To  persecutions,  and  againft  the  face 
Of  death  and  fierceft  dangers  durft,  with  brave 
And  sober  pace  march  on  to  meet  a  grave. 
On  their  bold  breafts  about  the  world  they  bore  Thee. 
And  to  the  teeth  of  hell  ftood  up  to  teach  Thee  ; 
In  centre  of  their  inmoft  souls  they  wore  Thee, 
Where  racks  and  torments  ftrived  in  vain  to  reach  Thee 
Each  wound  of  theirs  was  thy  new  morning, 
And  reenthroned  Thee  in  thy  rosy  neft. 
With  blufh  of  thine  own  blood  thy  day  adorning  : 
It  was  the  wit  of  love  o'erflowed  the  bounds 
Of  wrath,  and  made  the  way  through  all  these  wounds. 
Welcome,  dear,  all-adored  name ! 
For  sure  there  is  no  knee 
That  knows  not  Thee  ; 

Or,  if  there  be  such  sons  of  fhame, 
Alas  !  what  will  they  do, 

When  ftubborn  rocks  (hall  bow, 
And  hills  hang  down  their  heaven-saluting  heads, 
To  seek  for  humble  beds 

Of  duft,  where,  in  the  bafhful  fhades  of  night, 
Next  to  their  own   low  nothing  they   may  lie, 


Christ. 


93 


And  crouch  before  the  dazzling  light  of  thy  dread  majeiry  ? 
They  that  by  love's  mild  dictate  now 

Will  not  adore  Thee, 
Shall  then  with  just  confufion  bow, 

And  break  before  Thee. 

Crashaw. 


RISE— GLORIOUS   CONQUEROR,   RISE. 

RISE — glorious  Conqueror,  rise  ; 
Into  thy  native  ikies, — 
Aflume  thy  right : 
And  where  in  many  a  fold 
The  clouds  are  backward  roll'd — 
Pass  through  those  gates  of  gold, 
And  reign  in  light  ! 

Victor  o'er  death  and  hell! 
Cherubic  legions  swell 

The  radiant  train  : 
Praises  all  heaven  inspire  ; 
Each  angel  sweeps  his  lyre, 
And  waves  his  wings  of  fire, — 

Thou  Lamb  once  slain  ! 

Enter,  Incarnate  God  ! — 
No  feet,  but  thine,  have  trod 
The  serpent  down  : 


94  Christ. 

Blow  the  full  trumpets,  blow  ! 
Wider  yon  portals  throw  ! 
Saviour — triumphant — go, 
And  take  thy  crown  ! 

Lion  of  Judah — Hail ! — 
And  let  thy  name  prevail 

From  age  to  age  : 
Lord  of  the  rolling  years, — 
Claim  for  thine  own  the  spheres, 
For  Thou  hast  bought  with  tears 

Thy  heritage ! 

Yet — who  are  these  behind, 
In  numbers  more  than  mind 

Can  count  or  say — 
Clothed  in  immortal  stoles, 
Illumining  the  poles — 
A  galaxy  of  souls, 

In  white  array  ? 

And  then  was  heard  afar 
Star  answering  to  star — 

Lo  !  these  have  come, 
Followers  of  Him,  who  gave 
His  life,  their  lives  to  save  ; 
And  now  their  palms  they  wave, 

Brought  safely  home. 

Brydges. 


Christ.  95 


HEAD  of  the  Hofts  in  glory ! 
We  joyfully  adore  Thee, — 
Thy  church  on  earth  below, 
Blending  with  those  on  high, — 
Where  through  the  azure  sky 
Thy  saints  in  ecftasy, — 
For  ever  glow ! 

Then  raise  the  song  of  gladness, 
To  diffipate  our  sadness — 

Along  this  vale  of  tears  : 
We  wend  our  weary  way 
Up  towards  the  realms  of  day, — 
And  watch, — and  wait, — and  pray, 

Conftant  in  fears ! 

Holy  Apoftles  !  beaming 

With  radiance  brightly  ftreaming 

From  diadems  of  power ; 
Call  on  the  awful  name, — 
That  we,  through  flood  and  flame 
The  gospel  may  proclaim 

In  every  hour ! 

Martyrs  ! — whose  myftic  legions 
March  o'er  yon  heavenly  regions 
In  triumph  round  and  round  ; 


g6  Christ. 

Wave — wave  your  banners — wave  ! 
For  Christ — our  Saviour,  clave 
For  Death  itself  a  grave, — 
In  hell  profound  ! 

Saints  ! — in  fair  circles,  carting 
Rich  trophies  everlafting 

At  Jesu's  pierced  feet, — 
Amidst  our  rude  alarms, 
Stretch  forth  your  conquering  arms, 
That  we  too,  safe  from  harms, 

In  heaven  may  meet ! 

Virgins ! — in  bliss  transcendent, 
Whose  coronals  resplendent 

Unwithering  bloom  : 
Exalt,  in  ceaseless  lays, 
Him  whom  all  anthems  praise, 
And  oft  our  spirits  raise 

With  your  perfume  ! 

Angels — Archangels  !  glorious 
Guards  of  the  church  victorious  ! 

Sing  to  the  Lamb ! 
Crown  Him  with  crowns  of  light, — 
One  of  the  Three  by  right, — 
Love, — Majesty, — and  Might, — 

The  Great  I  am  ! 

Bryiges. 


Christ.  97 


"AND    JESUS   WEPT." 
St.  John  xi.   35. 

BRIGHT  were  the  mornings  first  impearl'd 
O'er  earth,  and  sea,  and  air ; 
The  birthdays  of  a  rifing  world — 
For  power  divine  was  there. 

But  fairer  shone  the  tears  of  Christ 

For  Lazarus,  o'er  his  grave  ; 
Since  love  divine  bedew'd  the  sod 

Of  one  He  sought  to  save. 

Sweet  drops  of  grace,  the  pledges  given 

Of  Mercy's  mighty  plan, — 
That  He,  who  was  the  Prince  of  heaven, 

Had  pity  upon  man  ! 

Let  us  thy  dear  example,  Lord, 

Fix'd  in  our  memories  keep, — 
That  we,  obedient  to  thy  word, 

May  weep  with  those  that  weep. 


Brydges 


98  Christ. 


BRIGHT  cherubim  and  seraphim, 
In  one  myfterious  crowd, 
Expand  the  everlafting  hymn 
That  rolls  from  cloud  to  cloud. 

Odors,  in  folds  of  fragrant  fumes, 

Pervade  the  ravifh'd  ikies  ; 
Whilst  angels   form,  with  arching  plumes, 

A  firmament  of  eyes !  * 

They  gaze,  and  as  they  gaze,  they  shine, 

And  as  they  shine,  admire, 
With  adoration  all  divine, — 

All  love,— all  life,— all  fire  ! 

No  temple  there  is  made  with  hands 

By  human  priefthood  trod  ; 
Alone  the  once-slain  Victim  stands, 

The  living  Lamb  of  God  ! 

Brydges. 

*  Ezek.  i.  18-23  :  x.  12.     Apocal.  iv.  8. 


Christ. 


99 


^uicunque  Christum  quaritis. 

ALL  ye  who  seek,  in  hope  and   love, 
For  your  dear  Lord,  look  up  above! 
Where,  traced  upon  the  azure  fky, 
Faith  may  a  glorious  form  descry. 


Lo !  on  the  trembling  verge  of  li 
A  something  all  divinely  bright! 
Immortal,  infinite,  sublime ! 
Older  than  chaos,  space,  or  time  ! 


Hail,  Thou,  the  Gentiles'   mighty  Lord! 
All  hail,  O  Israel's  King  adored ! 
To  Abraham  sworn  in  ages  paft, 
And  to  his  seed  while  earth  shall  laft. 


To  Thee  the  prophets  witness  bear  ; 
Of  Thee  the  Father  doth  declare, 
That  all  who  would  his  glory  see, 
Muft  hear  and  mufr  believe  in  Thee. 


Brev 


lary. 


Saints^  Martyr s,  &c. 


SAINTS,  MARTYRS,  &c. 

ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
Antra  deserti  tcnerls  sub  annis. 

IN  caves  of  the  lone  wilderness  thy  youth 
Thou  hiddeft,  fhunning  the  rude  throng  of  men, 
And  guarding  the  pure  treasure  of  thy  soul 
From  the  leaft  touch  of  fin. 

There  to  thy  sacred  limbs  the  camel  gave 
A  garment  coarse  ;  the  rock,  a  bed  supplied  ; 
The  ftream  thy  thirft  ;  locufts  and  honey  wild 
Thy  hunger  satisfied. 

Oh,  bleft  beyond  the  Prophets  of  old  time ! 
They  of  the  Saviour  sang  that  was  to  be  : 
Him  present  to  announce,  and  show  to  all, 
Was  granted  but  to  thee. 

Through  the  wide  earth  was  never  mortal   man 
Born  holier  than  John  ;  to  whom  was  given 
The  guilty  world's  Baptizer  to  baptize, 
And  ope  the  door  of  Heaven, 

Brtviary, 


Saints.,  Martyrs^  &c. 


CHRIST. 

Christc,  sanctorum  dccus  angelorum. 

O   CHRIST  !  the  beauty  of  the  angel  worlds  ! 
Of  man  the  Saviour  and  Redeemer  bleft  ! 
Grant  us  one  day  to  mount  the  path  of  light, 
And  in  thy  glory  reft. 

Angel  of  Peace  !  thou,  Michael,  from  above, 
Come  down,  amid  the  homes  of  man  to  dwell ; 
And  banish  wars,  with  all  their  tears  and  blood, 
Back  to  their  native  Hell. 

Angel  of  Strength  !  thou,  Gabriel,  cart  out 
Thine  ancient  foes,  usurpers  of  thy  reign  ; 
The  temples  of  thy  triumph  round  the  globe 
Revifit  once  again. 

And  Raphael,  Physician  of  the  soul, — 
Let  him  descend  from  his  pure  halls  of  light, 
To  heal  the  fick,  and  guide  each  doubtful  course 
Through  all  our  life  aright. 

Thou  too,  O  Virgin,  with  the  angel  choirs, 
Mother  of  Light,  and  Queen  of  Peace  !  descend 
And  bring  with  thee  the  radiant  Court  of  Heaven 
Thy  children  to  befriend. 

Breviary. 


Saints,  Martyrs,  cs'c. 


OF  MANY  MARTYRS. 
Sanctorum  mentis  inclyta  gaudia. 

SING  we  the  peerless  deeds  of  martyr'd   Saints, 
Their  glorious  merits,  and  their  portion  bleft  ; 
Of  all  the  conquerors  the  world  has  seen, 
The  greateft  and  the  belt. 

Them  in  their  day  th'  insensate  world  abhorr'd, 
Because  they  did  forsake  it,  Lord,  for  Thee  ; 
Finding  it  all  a  barren  wafte,  devoid 
Of  fruit,  or  flower,  or  tree. 

They  trod  beneath  them  every  threat  of  man, 
And  came  victorious  all  torments  through  ; 
The  iron  hooks,  which  piecemeal  tore  their  flesh, 
Could  not  their  souls  subdue. 

Scourged,  crucified,  like  fheep  to  flaughter  led, 
Unmurmuring  they  met  their  cruel  fate  ; 
For  conscious  innocence  their  souls  upheld, 
In  patient  virtue  great. 

What  tongue  those  joys,  O  Jesus,  can  disclose, 
Which   for  thy   martyr'd   Saints  Thou   doit   prepare  ! 
Happy  who  in  thy  pains,  thrice  happy  those 
Who  in  thy  glory  (hare  ! 


Saints,  Martyrs,  &c.  103 

Our  faults,  our  fins,  our  miseries  remove, 
Great  Deity  supreme,  immortal  King  ! 
Grant  us  thy  peace,  grant  us  thine  endless  love 
Through  endless  years  to  Ting. 

Breviary. 


JEterna  Christi  munera. 

THE   Lord's   eternal  gifts, 
Th'  Apoftles'   mighty  praise, 
Their  victories,  and  high  reward, 
Sing  we  in  joyful  lays. 

Lords  of  the  churches  they  ; 
Triumphant  Chiefs  of  war  ; 
Brave  Soldiers  of  the  Heavenly  Court; 
True  lights  for  evermore. 

Theirs  was  the  Saints'  high  Faith  ; 
And  quenchless  Hope's  pure  glow  ; 
And  perfect  Charity,  which  laid 
The  world's  fell  tyrant  low. 

In  them  the  Father  fhone  ; 
In  them  the  Son  o'ercame  ; 
In  them  the  Holy  Spirit  wrought, 
And  fill'd  their  hearts  with  flame. 

Breviary. 


[04  Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 


ST.  STEPHEN. 

0  qui  tuo  dux  Marty  rum. 

O  CAPTAIN  of  the  Martyr  Hoft ! 
O  peerless  in  renown  ! 
Not  from  the  fading  flowers  of  earth 
Weave  we  for  thee  a  crown. 

The  ftones  that  smote  thee,  in  thy  blood 

Made  glorious  and  divine, 
All  in  a  halo  heavenly  bright 

About  thy  temples  mine. 

The  scars  upon  thy  sacred  brow 
Throw  beams  of  glory  round ; 

The  splendors  of  thy  bruised  face 
The  very  sun  confound. 

Oh,  earlieft  Victim  sacrificed 

To  thy  dear  Victim  Lord  ! 
Oh,  earlieft  witness  to  the  Faith 

Of  thy  Incarnate  God  ! 

Thou  to  the  heavenly  Canaan  firft 
Through  the  Red   Sea  didft  go, 

And  to  the  Martyrs'  countless  Hoft, 
Their  path  of  glory  fhow. 


Saints ,  Martyrs,  £$c.  105 

Erewhile  a  servant  of  the  poor, — 

Now  at  the  Lamb's  high  Feaft, 
In  blood-empurpled  robe  array'd, 

A  welcome  nuptial  gueffc  ! 

Breviary. 


ST.   JOHN    THE    BAPTIST. 
O  nimis  felix  meritique  celsi. 

O   BLESSED  Saint,  of  snow-white  purity  ! 
Dweller  in  waftes  forlorn  ! 
O  mightieft  of  the  Martyr  hoft  on  high  ! 
Greatefr.  of  Prophets  born  ! 

Of  all  the  diadems  that  on  the  brows 

Of  Saints  in  glory  mine, 
Not  one  with  brighter,  purer  halo  glows, 

In   Heaven's  high  Court,  than  thine. 

Oh  !    upon  us  thy  tender,  pitying  gaze 

Cart  down  from  thy  dread  throne  ; 
Straighten  our  crooked,  smooth  our  rugged  ways, 

And  break  our  hearts  of  ftone. 

So  may  the  world's  Redeemer  find  us  meet 

To  offer  Him  a  place, 
Where  He  may  set  his  ever-blefTed  feet 

Coming  with  gifts  of  grace. 

Breviary. 


106  Saints ,   Martyrs,  &c. 


ST.   FRANCIS   XAVIER. 

LO  !  on  the  flope  of  yonder  fhore 
Beneath  that  lonely  fhed, — 
A  saint  hath  found  his  conflicts  o'er, 
And  laid  his  dying  head  ! 

No  gloom  of  fear  hath  glazed    his  eye, 
For  though  loud  billows  roll, — 

The  Aurora  of  Eternity 
Is  rifing  on  his  soul. 

The  glorious   Saviour  of  his  love 

Receives  him  in  his  arms, 
And  bears  him,  like  a  ransom'd  dove, 

Away  from  all  alarms! 

Champion  of  Jesus  ! — man  of  God, 
Servant  of  Chrifl:,   well  done! 

Thy  path  of  thorns  hath  now  been  trod, 
Thy  red-cross  crown  is  won  ! 

O'er  the  wide  wafte  of  watery  waves, 
And  leagues  on  leagues  of  land, 

Amid  It   a  wilderness  of  graves, 
With  death  on  every  hand, — 


Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 

107 

He  flew  to  woo  and  win  a  world  ; 

That  men  might  kiss  the  feet 
Of  Him,  whose  banner  he  unfurl'd, — 
Father, — Son, — Paraclete ! 

His  tongue,  the  Spirit's  two-edged  sword, 

Had  magic  in  its  blade, — 
For  while  it  smote  with  every  word, 

It  heal'd  the  wounds  it  made  ! 

His  lips  were  love,  his  touch  was  power, 
His  thoughts  were  vivid  flame, 

The  flames  of  a  thunder-mower — 
Where'er,  or  when  they  came  ! 

Around  him  fhone  the  light  of  life, 

Before  him  darkness  fell — 
Satan  receded  from  the  ftrife, 

And  sought  his  native  hell  ! 

Yet,  who  so  humbly  walk'd  as  he, 

A  conqueror  in  the  field, 
Wreathing  the  rose  of  victory 

Around  his  radiant  shield  ? 

As  filvery  clouds,  at  eventide, 

Float  on  the  balmy  gale, 
Nor  seem  to  heed  the  ftars  they  hide 

Behind  their  fleecy  veil ; 


108  Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 

So  lowly  sense  of  flighted  worth 
Frefh  graces  o'er  him  threw  ; 

For  he  unconscious  lived  on  earth, 
Of  all  the  praise  he  drew  ! 

Champion  of  Jesus  !  on  that  breaft 
From  whence  thy  fervor  flow'd, 

Thou  haft  obtain'd  eternal  reft, 
The  bosom  of  thy  God ! 

Brydges. 


ST.    ELIZABETH,    QUEEN    OF    PORTUGAL. 
Domare  cordis  impetus  Elizabeth. 

PURE,  meek,  with  soul  serene, 
Sweeter  to  her  it  was  to  serve  unseen 
Her  God,  than  reign  a  queen. 

Now  far  above  our  fight, 
Enthroned  upon  the  azure  ftar-paved  height, 
She  reigns  in  realms  of  light  ; 

So  long  as  time  mail  flow, 
Teaching  to  all  who  sit  on  thrones  below, 
The  good  that  power  can  do. 

Br, 


Saints^  Martyrs^  &c 


MARTYRDOM   OF    ST.    LUCY. 

WE  watch'd,  as  she  linger'd  all  the  day 
Beneath  the  torturer's  fkill  ; 
And  we  pray'd  that  the  spirit  might  pass  away, 

And  the  weary  frame  be  ftill. 
'Twas  a  long  fharp  ftruggle  from  darkness  to  light, 

And  the  pain  was  fierce  and  sore  ; 
But  she,  we  knew,  in  her  lateff.  fight 
Muft  be  more  than  conqueror  ! 

Oh,  what  a  change  had  the  prison  wrought 

Since  we  gazed  upon  her  laft ! 
And  mournful  the  leflbns  her  thin  frame  taught 

Of  the  sufferings  she  had  pair.  : 
Of  pain  and  fickness — not  of  fear  ! 

There  was  courage  in  her  eye  : 
And  she  enter'd  the  amphitheatre 

As  to  triumph,  and  not  to  die! 

And  once,  when  we  could  not  bear  to  see 

Her  sufferings,  and  turn'd  the  head, 
"  His  rod  and  His  ftaff  they  comfort  me," 

The  virgin  martyr  said  : 
It  was  near  the  setting  of  the  sun, 

And  her  voice  wax'd  faint  and  low ; 
And  we  knew  that  her  race  was  well-nigh  run, 

And  her  time  drew  near  to  go. 


HO  Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 

We  could  almoft  deem  the  clouds  that  roll'd 

In  the  ruddy  sun's  decline 
To  be  chariots  of  fire  and  horses  of  gold 

On  the  fteep  of  Mount  Aventine  : 
Yea,  guardian  angels  bent  their  way 

From  their  own  fkies'  cloudless  blue, 
And  a  triumph  more  glorious  was  thine  to-day 

Than  ever  the  Caesar  knew  ! 

We  lay  thee  here  in  the  narrow  cell 

Where  thy  friends  and  brethren  fleep  ; 
And  we  carve  the  palm,  of  thy  lot  to  tell, 

And  we  do  not  dare  to  weep. 
Hopefully  wait  we  God's  holy  time 

That  fhall  call  us  to  fhare  thy  reft  ; 
Till  then,  we  muff,   dwell  in  an   alien  clime, 

While  thou  art  in  Abraham's  breaft. 

Neale. 


Saints^  Martyrs^  &c. 


THE   SISTER   OF   CHARITY. 

SHE  once  was  a  lady  of  honor  and  wealth  ; 
Bright  glow'd  in  her  features  the  roses  of  health  ; 
Her  vefture  was  blended  of  filk  and  of  gold, 
And  her  motion  fhook  perfume  from  every  fold  : 
Joy  revell'd  around  her — love  fhone  at  her  fide, 
And  gay  was  her  smile  as  the  glance  of  a  bride  ; 
And  light  was  her  ftep  in  the  mirth-sounding  hall, 
When  fhe  heard  of  the  daughters  of  Vincent  de  Paul. 

She  felt  in  her  spirit  the  summons  of  grace, 
That  call'd   her  to  live  for  her  suffering  race  ; 
And,  heedless  of  pleasure,  of  comfort,  of  home, 
Rose  quickly,  like  Mary,  and  answer'd  "  I  come." 
She  put  from  her  person  the  trappings  of  pride, 
And  paff  'd  from  her  home  with  the  joy  of  a  bride, 
Nor  wept  at  the  threfhold  as  onward  fhe  moved — 
For  her  heart  was  on  fire  in  the  cause  it  approved. 

Loft  ever  to  fafhion — to  vanity  loft, 
That  beauty  that  once  was  the  song  and  the  toaft — 
No  more  in  the  ball-room  that  figure  we  meet, 
But  gliding  at  dufk  to  the  wretch's  retreat. 
Forgot  in  the  halls  is   that  high-sounding  name, 
For  the  Sister  of  Charity  blushes  at  fame  : 


112  Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 

Forgot  are  the  claims  of  her  riches  and  birth, 
For  Ihe  barters  for  heaven  the  glory  of  earth. 

Those  feet,  that  to  music  could  gracefully  move, 

Now  bear  her  alone  on  the  miflion  of  love  ; 

Those  hands,  that  once  dangled  the  perfume  and  gem, 

Are  tending  the  helpless,  or  lifted  for  them  ; 

That  voice,  that  once  echo'd  the  song  of  the  vain, 

Now  whispers  relief  to  the  bosom  of  pain  ; 

And  the  hair  that  was  mining  with  diamond  and  pearl, 

Is  wet  with  the  tears  of  the  penitent  girl. 

Her  down-bed,  a  pallet — her  trinkets,  a  bead, 

Her  luftre — one  taper,  that  serves  her  to  read  ; 

Her  sculpture — the  crucifix  nail'd  by  her  bed  ; 

Her  paintings, — one  print  of  the  thorn-crowned  head  ; 

Her  cufhion — the  pavement  that  wearies  her  knees  j 

Her  mufic — the  psalm,  or  the  figh  of  disease  : 

The  delicate  lady  lives  mortified  there, 

And  the  feaft  is  forsaken  for  fafting  and  prayer. 

Yet  not  to  the  service  of  heart  and  of  mind, 

Are  the  cares  of  that  heaven-minded  virgin  confined  : 

Like  Him  whom  she  loves,  to  the  manfions  of  grief 

She  haftes  with  the  tidings  of  joy  and  relief. 

She  ftrengthens  the  weary — (he  comforts  the  weak, 

And  soft  is  her  voice  in  the  ear  of  the  fick  ; 

Where  want  and  affliction  on  mortals  attend, 

The  Sifter  of  Charity  there  is  a  friend. 


Saints^  Martyrs^  &c.  113 

Unfhrinking  where  peftilence  scatters  his  breath, 
Like  an  angel  fhe  moves,  mid  the  vapors  of  death  ; 
Where  rings  the  loud  mufket,  and  flames  the  sword, 
Unfearing  fhe  walks,  for  fhe  follows  her  Lord. 
How  sweetly  fhe  bends  o'er  each  plague-tainted  face, 
With  looks  that  are  lighted  with  holieft  grace  ; 
How  kindly  fhe  dreffes  each  suffering  limb, 
For  fhe  sees  in  the  wounded  the  image  of  Him. 

Behold  her,  ye  worldly  !   behold  her,  ye  vain  ! 
Who  fhrink  from  the  pathway  of  virtue  and  pain  ; 
Who  yield  up  to  pleasure  your  nights  and  your  days, 
Forgetful  of  service,  forgetful  of  praise. 
Ye  lazy  philosophers,  self-seeking  men — 
Ye  firefide  philanthropes,  great  at  the  pen, 
How  ftands  in  the  balance  your  eloquence  weigh'd 
With  the  life  and  the  deeds  of  that  high-born  maid  ? 

Griffin. 


14  Saints,  Martyrs,  is'c. 


MARTYRDOM  OF  THE  INNOCENTS. 

LOVELY  flowers  of  martyrs,  hail! 
Smitten  by  the  tyrant  foe 
On  life's  threfhold, — as  the  gale 
Strews  the  roses  ere  they  blow. 

Firft  to  die  for  Chrift,  sweet  lambs  ! 

At  the  very  altar  ye, 
With  your  fatal  crowns  and  palms, 

Sport  in  your  fimplicity. 

Breviary, 


IN   MEMORIAM. 

HOLY  and  innocent  were  all  his  ways  ; 
Sweet,  temperate,  unftain'd  ; 
His  life  was  prayer, — his  every  breath  was  praise, 
While  breath  to  him  remain'd. 

To  God,  of  all  the  centre  and  the  source, 

Be  power  and  glory  given  ; 
Who  sways  the  mighty  world  through  all  its  course, 

From  the  bright  throne  of  Heaven. 

B>\  i 


Saints ,  Martyrs,  &c.  115 


ST.   MARY   MAGDALENE. 
Pater  superni  lumlnis. 

FATHER  of  lights  !  one  glance  of  Thine, 
Whose  eyes  the  Universe  control, 
Fills  Magdalene  with  holy  love, 
And  melts  the  ice  within  her  soul. 

Her  precious  ointment  forth  me  brings, 
Upon  those  sacred  feet  to  pour  ; 

She  wafhes  them  with  burning  tears  ; 
And  with  her  hair  fhe  wipes  them  o'er. 

Impassioned  to  the  Cross  fhe  clings  ; 

Nor  fears  befide  the  tomb  to  flay  ; 
Of  ruffian  soldiers  naught  fhe  recks, 

For  love  has  caft  all  fear  away. 


O  Chrift,  thou  very  Love  itself! 

Bleft  hope  of  man,  through  Thee  forgiven  ! 
So  touch  our  spirits  from  above, 

And  purify  our  souls  for  Heaven. 

Breviary. 


1 6  Communion   Service. 


COMMUNION    SERVICE. 


LO  !  upon  the  Altar  lies, 
Hidden  deep  from  human  eyes, 
Bread  of  Angels  from  the  fkies, 

Made  the  food  of  mortal  man  : 
Children's  meat  to  dogs  denied  ; 
In  old  types  forefignified 
In  the  manna  Heaven-supplied, 
Isaac,  and  the  Paschal  Lamb. 

Jesus  !  Shepherd  of  the  sheep  ! 
Thou  thy  flock  In  safety  keep. 
Living  Bread  !  thy  life  supply  ; 
Strengthen  us,  or  else  we  die  ; 

Fill  us  with  celeftial  grace  : 
Thou  who  feedeft  us  below  ! 
Source  of  all  we  have  or  know  ! 
Grant  that  with  thy  Saints  above, 
Sitting  at  the  feaft  of  love, 

We  may  see  Thee  face   to  face. 

Missal 


Communion   Service.  117 


ASPIRATIONS    AFTER    COMMUNION. 

PRESERVE,  my  Jesus,  oh  preserve 
My  soul  to  everlafting  life. 
Oh,  may  this  bleft  communion  serve 
To  aid  my  soul  in  paffion's  ftrife  : 
Oh,  may  thy  body,  may  thy  blood, 
Be  to  my  soul  a  saving  food, 
To  fill  it  ftill  with  life  and  grace, 
And  every  finful  ftain  efface  ! 

To  bless  Thee  be  my  sole  employ, 
My  God,  my  Saviour,  great  and  kind  ! 

Inflame  my  heart  with  holy  joy  ; 

Teach  me,  in  praifing  Thee,  to  find 

Warm  thoughts  and  feelings  warm,  whose  glow 

My  gratitude  may  aptly  fhow. 

But  no,  my  God  !  nor  word,  nor  thought, 

Could  bless  and  praise  Thee  as  I  ought. 

Weak  praise  were  mine.     Do  Thou  inspire 

My  soul  with  love  and  living  fire. 

Oh,  may  this  cold  and  lowly  breaft 

Be  warm'd  by  Thee,  its  God,  its  gueft. 

May  it  by  Thee  be  moved  to  love, 

And  taught  thy  saving  grace  to  improve. 

Take,  then,  my  thoughts  from  all  but  Thee. 
To  Thee,  may  ev'ry  impulse  tend. 


Communion   Service. 


What  'vails  to  tell  my  misery? 

I  have  my  God — my  gueft — my  friend  : 
So  be  His  praise  my  only  theme  ! 
All  wants  my  Saviour  will  redeem. 
My  Saviour  knows  whate'er  I  need — 
He  gives  Himself:  and  mail  I  plead 
For  other  boons  ?     No !  let  me  raise 
Mine  ev'ry  thought  in  love  and  praise. 
Dear  Lord,  no  other  prayer  I  form 
Than  for  devotion  pure  and  warm. 
May  warm  devotion  fill  my  soul  ; 
May  love  for  Thee  each  thought  control ; 
May  piety  increase  ;  and  prayer 
Mine  ev'ry  thought,  word,  action  (hare  ; 
The  gift  of  love  my  sole  requeft — 
Thou,  God  of  love !  wilt  grant  the  reft. 

Dear  Lord  !  may  this  Communion  prove 
A  never-failing  bond  of  love. 
Forgive  my  coldness,  and  supply 
Mine  every  weak  deficiency. 
May  thy  beft  grace  suffice  for  all, 
And  every  wayward  sense  enthrall  : 
Such  grace  on  every  feeling  pour 
As  ne'er  may  leave  thy  servant  more  : 
Each  hope,  each  impulse  firmly  bind 
In  grace  to  Thee,  my  Saviour  kind  : 
Such  saving  grace,  dear  Lord,  be  given 
As  leads  the  happy  soul  to  heaven. 

J.   R.   Beste. 


Dedication  of  a  Church.  119 


DEDICATION   OF   A   CHURCH. 


Alto  ex  Olympi  njertlce. 

FROM  higheft  Heaven,  the  Father's  J 
Descending  like  that  myftic  ftone 
Cut  from  a  mountain  without  hands, 
Came  down  below,  and  filled  all  lands  ; 
Uniting,  midway  in  the  Iky, 
His  House  on  earth,  and  House  on  high. 

That  House  on  high, — it  ever  rings 
With  praises  of  the  King  of  kings  ; 
For  ever  there,  on  harps  divine, 
They  hymn  th'  eternal  One  and  Trine  ; 
We,  here  below,  the  ftrain  prolong, 
And  faintly  echo  Sion's  song. 

O  Lord  of  lords  invifible !. 
With  thy  pure  light  this  temple  fill  : 
Hither,  oft  as  invoked,  descend  ; 
Here  to  thy  people's  prayer  attend  : 
Here,  through  all  hearts,  for  evermore, 
The  Spirit's  quick'ning  graces  pour. 


Dedication  of  a   Church. 


Here  may  the  Faithful,  day  by  day, 
In  kneeling  adoration  pray  ; 
And  here  receive  from  thy  dear  love 
The  bleflings  of  that  home  above  ; 
Till,  loosen'd  from  this  mortal  chain, 
Its  everlafting  joys  they  gain. 

Breviary. 


Calestis  urbs  Jerusalem. 

JERUSALEM,  thou  City  bleft  ! 
Dear  vifion  of  celeftial  reft ! 
Which  far  above  the  ftarry  iky, 
Piled  up  with  living  ftones  on  high, 
Art,  as  a  Bride,  encircled  bright, 
With  million  angel  forms  of  light  : 

Oh,  wedded  in  a  prosperous  hour ! 
The  Father's  glory  was  thy  dower ; 
The  Spirit  all  His  graces  fhed, 
Thou  peerless  Queen,  upon  thy  head  ; 
When  Chrift  espoused  thee  for  his  Bride, 
O  City  bright  and  glorified  ! 

Thy  gates  a  pearly  luftre  pour  ; 
Thy  gates  are  open   evermore  ; 


Dedication  of  a   Church. 


And  thither  evermore  draw  nigh 
All  who  for  Chrift  have  dared  to  die  ; 
Or  smit  with  love  of  their  dear  Lord, 
Have  pains  endured,  and  joys  abhorr'd. 

Thou  too,  O  Church,  which  here  we  see! 
No  easy  tafk  hath  builded  thee. 
Long  did  the  chisels  ring  around  ! 
Long  did  the  mallets'  blows  rebound! 
Long  work'd  the  head  and  toil'd  the  hand  ! 
Ere  flood  thy  (tones  as  now  they  ftand  ! 

Breviary. 


Miscellaneous. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


THE   ASCENSION. 

WHY  is  thy  face  so  lit  with  smiles, 
Mother  of  Jesus  !  why  ? 
And  wherefore  is  thy  beaming  look 
So  fixed  upon  the  fky  ? 

From  out  thine  overflowing  eyes 

Bright  lights  of  gladness  part, 
As  though  some  gufhing  fount  of  joy 

Had  broken  in  thy  heart. 

Mother !  how  canft  thou  smile  to-day  ? 

How  can  thine  eyes  be  bright, 
When   He,  thy  Life,  thy  Love,  thine  All, 

Hath  vanifh'd  from  thy  fight  ? 

His  rifing  form  on  Olivet 

A   summer's  fhadow  caft  ; 
The  branches  of  the  hoary   trees 

Droop'd  as  the  fhadow  pafT'd. 


Miscellaneous.  123 


And  as  He  rose  with  all  his  train 

Of  righteous  souls  around, 
His  blefling  fell  into  thine  heart, 

Like  dew  into  the  ground. 

Down  ftoop'd  a  filver  cloud  from  heaven, 

The  Eternal  Spirit's  car, 
And  on  the  leflening  vifion  went, 

Like  some  receding  ftar. 

The  silver  cloud  hath  sail'd  away, 

The  ikies  are  blue  and  free  ; 
The  road  that  vifion  took  is  now 

Sunihine  and  vacancy. 

The  Feet  which  thou  haft  kifT'd  so  oft, 
Those  living  Feet,  are  gone  ; 

Mother!  thou  canft  but  ftoop  and  kiss 
Their  print  upon  the  ftone. 

Yes !  He  hath  left  thee,  Mother  dear ! 

His  throne  is  far  above  ; 
How  canft  thou  be  so  full  of  joy 

When  thou  haft  loft  thy  Love  ? 

O  surely  earth's  poor  sunfhine  now 
To  thee  mere  gloom  appears, 

When  He  is  gone  who  was  its  light 
For  Three-and-Thirty  Years. 


1 24  Miscellaneous. 

Why  do  not  thy  sweet  hands  detain 

His  Feet  upon  their  way  ? 
O  why  doth  not  the  Mother  speak 

And  bid  her  Son  to  flay  ? 

Ah  no  !   thy  love  is  rightful  love, 

From  all  self-seeking  free  ; 
The  change  that  is  such  gain  to  Him 

Can  be  no  loss  to  thee ! 

'Tis  sweet  to  feel  our  Saviour's  love, 

To  feel  his  presence  near  ; 
Yet  loyal  love  his  glory  holds 

A  thousand  times  more  dear. 

Who  would  have  known  the  way  to  love 

Our  Jesus  as  we  ought, 
If  thou  in  varied  joy  and  woe 

Hadfl:  not  that  lefTon  taught? 

Ah !  never  is  our  love  so  pure 

As  when  refined  by  pain, 
Or  when  God's  glory  upon  earth 

Finds  in  our  loss  its  gain  ! 

True  love  is  worfhip  :   Mother  dear ! 

O  gain  for  us  the  light 
To  love,  because  the  creature's  love 

Is  the  Creator's  right  ! 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous. 


125 


HYMN    TO    MY    GUARDIAN    ANGEL. 

(For  Children.) 

DEAR  Angel !  ever  at  my  fide, 
How  loving  muft  thou  be 
To  leave  thy  home  in  Heaven  to  guard 
A  little  child  like  me. 

Thy  beautiful  and  mining  face 

I  see  not,  though  so  near ; 
The  sweetness  of  thy  soft  low  voice 

I  am  too  deaf  to  hear. 

I  cannot  feel  thee  touch  my  hand 
With  preffure  light  and  mild, 

To  check  me,  as  my  mother  did 
When  I  was  but  a  child. 

But  I  have  felt  thee  in  my  thoughts 

Fighting  with  fin  for  me  ; 
And  when  my  heart  loves  God,  I  know 

The  sweetness  is  from  thee. 

And  when,  dear  Spirit!  I  kneel  down 
Morning  and  night  to  prayer, 

Something  there  is  within  my  heart 
Which  tells  me  thou  art  there. 


[26  Miscellaneous. 


Yes  !  when  I  pray  thou  prayeft  too — 

Thy  prayer  is  all  for  me  ; 

But  when  I  sleep,  thou  sleepeft  not, 

But  watcheft  patiently. 

Ah  me  !  how  lovely  they  muft  be 

Whom  God  has  glorified  ; 
Yet  one  of  them,  O  sweeteft  thought! 

Is  ever  at  my  fide. 

And  thou  in  life's  laft  hour  wilt  bring 

A  frefh  supply  of  grace, 
And  afterwards  wilt  let  me  kiss 

Thy  beautiful  bright  face. 

Then  for  thy  sake,  dear  Angel !  now 

More  humble  will  I  be  : 
But  I  am  weak,  and  when  I  fall, 

O  weary  not  for  me  : 

Then  love  me,  love  me,  Angel  dear  ! 

And  I  will  love  thee  more ; 
And  help  me  when  my  soul  is  caft 

Upon  the  eternal  fhore. 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous.  127 


HYMN   OF   THE   CALABRIAN   SHEPHERDS. 

DARKER  and  darker  fall  around 
The  fhadows   from  the  pine  ; 
It  is  the  hour  with  hymn  and  prayer 
To  gather  round  thy  fhrine. 

Hear  us,  sweet  Mother !  thou  haft  known 

Our  earthly  hopes  and  fears, 
The  bitterness  of  mortal  toil 

The  tenderness  of  tears. 

We  pray  thee  firft  for  absent  ones, 
Those  who  knelt  with  us  here — 

The  father,  brother,  and  the  son, 
The  diftant  and  the  dear. 

We  pray  thee  for  the  little  bark 

Upon  the  ftormy  sea; 
Affection's  anxiousness  of  love, 

Is  it  not  known  to  thee  ? 

The  soldier,  he  who  only  sleeps 

His  head  upon  his  brand, 
Who  only  in  a  dream  can  see 

His  own  beloved  land. 


28  Miscellaneous. 


The  wandering  Minftrel,  he  who  gave 
Thy  hymns  his  earlieft  tone, 

Who  strives  to  teach  a  foreign  tongue 
The  mufic  of  his  own. 

Kind  Mother,  let  them  see  again 

Their  own  Italian  fhore  ; 
Back  to  the  home,  which  wanting  them, 

Seems  like  a  home  no  more. 

Madonna,  keep  the  cold  north  wind 

Amid  his  native  seas, 
So  that  no  withering  blight  come  down 

Upon  our  olive  trees. 

And  bid  the  sunfhine  glad  our  hills, 

The  dew  rejoice  our  vines, 
And  bid  the  healthful  sea-breeze  sweep 

In  mufic  through  the  pines. 

Pray  for  us  that  our  hearts  and  homes 

Be  kept  in  fear  and  love  ; 
Love  for  all  things  around  our  path, 

And  fear  for  those  above. 

Thy  soft  blue  eyes  are  fill'd  with  tears, 

Oh  !  let  them  wafh  away 
The  soil  of  our  unworthiness  : — 

Pray  for  us.  Mother,  pray! 


Miscella  neous.  129 


We  know  how  vain  the  fleeting  flowers 

Around  thine  altar  hung  ; 
We  know  how  humble  is  the  hymn 

Before  thine  image  sung. 

But  wilt  thou  not  accept  the  wreath, 

And  sanctify  the  lay  ; 
We  truft  to  thee  our  hopes  and  fears, — 

Pray  for  us,  Mother,  pray ! 


Stabat  Mater  dolorosa. 

AT  the  Cross  her  ftation  keeping, 
Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping, 
Close  to  Jesus  to  the  laft  : 
Through  her  heart,  his  sorrow  fharing, 
All  his  bitter  anguifh  bearing, 

Now  at  length  the  sword  had  pafT'd. 

Oh,  how  sad  and  sore  diftrefT'd 
Was  that  Mother  highly  bleft 

Of  the  sole-begotten  One! 
Chrift  above  in  torment  hangs  ; 
She  beneath  beholds  the  pangs 

Of  her  dying  glorious  Son. 


1 30  Miscellaneous. 


Is  there  one  who  would  not  weep, 
Whelm'd  in  miseries  so  deep 

Chrift's  dear  Mother  to  behold? 
Can  the  human  heart  refrain 
From  partaking  in  her  pain, 

In  that  Mother's  pain  untold  ? 

Bruised,  derided,  cursed,  defiled, 
She  beheld  her  tender  Child 

All  with  bloody  scourges  rent  j 
For  the  fins  of  his  own  nation, 
Saw  Him  hang  in  desolation, 

Till  his  Spirit  forth  He  sent. 

O  thou  Mother !  fount  of  love  ! 
Touch  my  spirit  from  above. 

Make  my  heart  with  thine  accord  : 
Make  me  feel  as  thou  haft  felt ; 
Make  my  soul  to  glow  and  melt 

With  the  love  of  Chrift  my  Lord. 

Breviary, 


(&%& 


Miscellaneous. 


J3' 


PORTUGUESE   HYMN. 

STAR  of  the  wide  and  pathless  sea, 
Who  loveft  on  manners  to  mine, 
These  votive  garments  wet,  to  thee 
We  hang,  within  thy  holy  fhrine. 
When  o'er  us  flafh'd  the  surging  brine, 
Amid  the  warring  waters  toff'd, 

From  earthly  aid  we  turn'd  to  thine, 
And  hoped,  when  other  hope  was  loft. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  vaft  and  howling  main, 

When  dark  and  lone  is  all  the  fky, 
And  mountain  waves  o'er  ocean's  plain, 

ErecT:  their  ftormy  heads  on  high  ; 

When  matrons  by  the  hearthftone  figh, 
They  raise  their  weeping  eyes  to  thee  ; 

The  ftar  of  ocean  heeds  their  cry, 
And  saves  the  foundering  bark  at  sea. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  dark  and  ftormy  sea, 

When,  wreaking  tempefts  round  us  rave 

Thy  gentle  virgin  form  we  see, 
Bright  rifing  o'er  the  hoary  wave. 


32  Miscellaneous. 

The  howling  ftorms  that  seem  to  crave 
Their  victims,  fink  in  mufic  sweet ; 

The  surging  seas  recede,  to  pave 
The  path  beneath  thy  gliftening  feet. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  desert  waters  wild, 

Who,  pitying,  hear'ft  the  seaman's  cry, 

The  Lord  of  Mercy,  as  a  child, 

On  that  chafte  bosom  loved  to  lie  j 
While  soft  the  chorus  of  the  iky 

Their  hymns  of  tender  mercy  fing, 
And  angel  voices  named  on  high 

The  Mother  of  the  Heavenly  King. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  deep  !  at  that  blefr.  name 

The  waves  fleep  filent  round  the  keel, 
The  tempefts  wild  their  fury  tame, 

That  made  the  deep  foundations  reel  ; 

The  soft  celeftial  accents  fteal 
So  soothing  through  the  realms  of  woe, 

That  suffering  souls  a  respite  feel 
From  torture  in  the  depths  below. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  mild  and  placid  seas, 

Whom  rainbow  rays  of  mercy  crown, 

Whose  name  thy   faithful   Portuguese, 
O'er  all  that  to  the  depths  go  down, 


Miscellaneous.  1 33 


With  hymns  of  grateful  transport  own  ; 
When  gathering  clouds  obscure  their  light, 

And  heaven  afTumes  an  awful  frown, 
The  ftar  of  ocean  glitters  bright. 
Ave  Maris  Stella ! 

Star  of  the  deep  !  when  angel  lyres 

To  hymn  thy  holy  name  efTay, 
In  vain  a  mortal  harp  aspires 

To  mingle  in  the  mighty  lay  ! 

Mother  of  Chrift !  one  living  ray 
Of  hope  our  grateful  bosoms  fires, 

When  ftorms  and  tempefts  pass  away, 
To  join  the  bright  immortal  choirs. 
Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 


THE    MISSION    OF    THE    HOLY   GHOST. 

NO  track  is  on  the  sunny  iky, 
No  footprints  on  the  air  ; 
Jesus  hath  gone  ;  the  face  of  earth 
Is  desolate  and  bare. 

The  blefled  feet  of  Mary's  Son, 
They  tread  the  ftreets  no  more ; 

His  soul-converting  voice  gives  not 
Its  mufic  as  before. 


34  Miscellaneous. 


His  Mother  fits  all  worfhipful 

With  her  majeftic  mien  ; 
The  princes  of  the  infant  Church 

Are  gather'd  round  their  Queen. 

They  gaze  on  her  with  raptured  eyes, 

Her  features  are  like  his, 
Her  presence  is  their  ample  ftrength, 

Her  face  refle&s  their  bliss. 

That  Upper  Room  is  heaven  on  earth  ; 

Within  its  precincts  lie 
All  that  earth  has  of  faith,  or  hope, 

Or  heaven-born  charity. 

The  Eye  of  God  looks  down  on  them. 

His  love  is  centred  there  ; 
His  Spirit  yearns  to  be  o'ercome 

By  their  sweet  ftrife  of  prayer. 

The  Mother  prays  her  mighty  prayer, 

In  accents  meek  and  faint, 
And  higheft  heaven  is  quick  to  own 

The  beautiful  conftraint. 

The  Eternal  Son  takes  up  the  prayer 

Upon  his  royal  throne  ; 
The  Son  his  human  Mother  hears, 

The  Sire  his  holy  Son. 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous.  135 


THOU   ART   OF   ALL   CREATED   THINGS. 


Ti 


O  Lord,  the  effence  and  the  cause — 
The  source  and  centre  of  all  bliss  ; 
What  are  those  veils  of  woven  light, 
Where  sun  and  moon  and  ftars  unite — 
The  purple  morn,  the  spangled  night — 
But  curtains  which  thy  mercy  draws 
Between  the  heavenly  world  and  this  ? 
The  terrors  of  the  sea  and  land — 
When  all  the  elements  conspire, 
The  earth  and  water,  ftorm  and  fire — 
Are  but  the  fketches  of  thy  hand  ; 
Do  they  not  all  in  countless  ways — 
The  lightning's  flafh — the  howling  ftorm — 
The  dread  volcano's  awful  blaze — 
Proclaim  thy  glory  and  thy  praise  ? 
Beneath  the  sunny  summer  fhowers 
Thy  love  afTumes  a  milder  form, 
And  writes  its  angel  name  in  flowers  ; 
The  wind  that  flies  with  winged  feet 
Around  the  grafly  gladden'd  earth, 
Seems  but  commiflion'd  to  repeat 
In  echo's  accents — filvery  sweet — 


36 


Miscellaneous. 


That  Thou,  O  Lord,  didft  give  it  birth. 
There  is  a  tongue  in  every  flame — 
There  is  a  tongue  in  every  wave — 
To  these  the  bounteous  Godhead  gave 
These  organs  but  to  praise  his  name  ! 


LYRA    GERMANICA. 


Lyra  Germanica.  139 


LYRA  GERMANICA. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

The  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at  hand ;  let  us  therefore  cast  off 
the  works  of  darkness,  and  put  on  the  armor  of  light. 

From  the  Epistle. 

O  WATCHMAN  will  the  night  of  fin 
Be  never  part  ? 
O  watchman,  doth  the  day  begin 
To  dawn  upon  thy  ftraining  fight  at  laft  ? 

Will  it  dispel 
Ere  long  the  mifts  of  sense  wherein  I  dwell? 

Now  all  the  earth  is  bright  and  glad 

With  the  frefh  morn  ; 
But  all  my  heart  is  cold,  and  dark,  and  sad  ; 
Sun  of  the  soul,  let  me  behold  thy  dawn  ! 

Come  Jesus,  Lord  ! 
Oh,  quickly  come,  according  to  thy  word  ! 


140                                 Lyra   Germanica. 

Do  we  not  live  in  those  bleft  days 

So  long  foretold, 

When  Thou  fhouldft  come  to  bring  us  light  and 

grace  ? 

And  yet  I  fit  in  darkness  as  of  old, 

Pining  to  see 

Thy  glory  ;  but  Thou  ftill  art  far  from  me. 

Long  fince  Thou  cam'ft  to  be  the  light 

Of  all  men  here  ; 

And  yet  in  me  is  nought  but  blacked  night. 

Wilt  Thou  not  then  to  me,  thine  own,  appear  ? 

Shine  forth  and  bless 

My  soul  with  vifion  of  thy  righteousness  ! 

If  thus  in  darkness  ever  left, 

Can  I  fulfil 

The  works  of  light,  while  of  all  light  bereft  ? 

How  fhall  I  learn  in  love  and  meekness  ftill 

To  follow  Thee, 

And  all  the  finful  works  of  darkness  flee  ? 

The  light  of  reason  cannot  give 

Life  to  my  soul  ; 

Jesus  alone  can  make  me  truly  live, 

One  glance  of  his  can  make  my  spirit  whole. 

Arise,  and  fhine 

On  this  poor  longing,  waiting  heart  of  mine  ! 

Single  and  clear,  not  weak  or  blind, 

The  eye  mull  be, 

Lyra   Germanica.  141 

To  which  thy  glory  fhall  an  entrance  find  ; 
For  if  thy  chosen  ones  would  gaze  on  Thee, 

No  earthly  screen 
Between  their  souls  and  Thee  muft  intervene. 

Jesus,  do  Thou  mine  eyes  unseal, 

And  let  them  grow 
Quick  to  discern  whate'er  Thou  dofl  reveal, 
So  fhall  I  be  deliver'd  from  that  woe, 

Blindly  to  ftray 
Through  hopeless  night,  while  all  around  is  day. 

Richter,   1704. 


FOURTH   SUNDAY   IN    ADVENT. 

Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway,  and  again  I  say  unto  you, 
Rejoice     .     .     .     The  Lord  is  at  hand. 

From  the  Epistle. 

LIFT  up  your  heads,  ye  mighty  gates, 
Behold  the  King  of  glory  waits, 
The  King  of  kings  is  drawing  near, 
The  Saviour  of  the  world  is  here  ; 
Life  and  salvation  doth  He  bring, 
Wherefore  rejoice,  and  gladly  fing 
Praise,  O  my  God,  to  Thee  ! 
Creator,  wise  is  thy  decree  ! 


142  Lyra   Germanica. 


The  Lord  is  juft,  a  helper  tried, 

Mercy  is  ever  at  his  fide, 

His  Kingly  crown  is  holiness, 

His  sceptre,  pity  in  diftress, 
The  end  of  all  our  woe  He  brings  ; 
Wherefore  the  earth  is  glad  and  fings 

Praise,  O  my  God,  to  Thee  ! 

O  Saviour,  great  thy  deeds  mail  be  ! 

O  bleft  the  land,  the  city  bleft, 

Where  Chrift  the  Ruler  is  confeft  ! 
O  happy  hearts,  and  happy  homes, 
To  whom  this  King  in  triumph  comes  ! 
The  cloudless  Sun  of  joy  He  is, 
Who  bringeth  pure  delight  and  bliss  j 
Praise,  O  my  God,  to  thee  ! 
Comforter,  for  thy  comfort  free  ! 

Fling  wide  the  portals  of  your  heart, 
Make  it  a  temple,  set  apart 
From  earthly  use  for  Heaven's  employ, 
Adorn'd  with  prayer,  and  love,  and  joy  ; 

So  fhall  your  Sovereign  enter  in, 

And  new  and  nobler  life  begin. 
Praise,  O  my  God,  be  thine, 
For  word,  and  deed,  and  grace  divine. 

Redeemer,  come!     I  open  wide 

My  heart  to  Thee  ;  here,  Lord,  abide ! 
Let  me  thy  inner  presence  feel, 


Lyra  Germanica.  143 

Thy  grace  and  love  in  me  reveal, 

Thy  Holy  Spirit  guide  us  on 

Until  our  glorious  goal  be  won ! 
Eternal  praise  and  fame, 
Be  offer'd,  Saviour,  to  thy  name  ! 

WeisKel.      1635. 


ST.  STEPHEN'S   DAY. 

I  have  seen,  I   have  seen  the  afflictions  of  my  people. 

From  the  Lesson. 

FEAR  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 
Who  madly  seek  your  overthrow, 
Dread  not  his  rage  and  power. 
What  though  your  courage  sometimes  faints, 
His  seeming  triumph  o'er  God's  saints 
Lafts  but  a  little  hour. 

Be  of  good  cheer  ;  your  cause  belongs 
To  Him  who  can  avenge  your  wrongs 

Leave  it  to  Him,  our  Lord. 
Though  hidden  yet  from  all  our  eyes, 
He  sees  the  Gideon  who  fhall  rise 

To  save  us,  and  his  word. 


[44  Lyra  Germanica. 


As  true  as  God's  own  word  is  true, 
Not  earth  or  hell  with  all  their  crew 

Againft  us  fhall  prevail. 
A  jeft  and  byword  are  they  grown  j 
God  is  with  us,  we  are  his  own, 

Our  victory  cannot  fail. 

Amen,  Lord  Jesus,  grant  our  prayer  : 
Great  Captain,  now  thine  arm  make  bare  ; 

Fight  for  us  once  again  ! 
So  fhall  the  saints  and  martyrs  raise 
A  mighty  chorus  to  thy  praise, 

World  without  end.     Amen. 

Altenburg. 

Gujiavus  Jdolphus's  Battle-Song.      1 63 1. 


Lyra   Germanlca.  145 


INNOCENTS'   DAY. 

Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall 
not  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  Matt.   18  :   3. 

DEAR  Soul,  couldfr.  thou  become  a  child 
While  yet  on  earth,  meek,  undefiled, 
Then  God  himself  were  ever  near, 
And  Paradise  around  thee  here. 

A  child  cares  nought  for  gold  or  treasure, 
Nor  fame  nor  glory  yield  him  pleasure  ; 
In  perfect  truft,  he  asketh  not 
If  rich  or  poor  mail  be  his  lot. 

Little  he  recks  of  dignity 
Nor  prince  nor  monarch  feareth  he  ; 
Strange  that  a  child  so  weak  and  small 
Is  oft  the  boldeft  of  us  all ! 

He  hath  not  fkill  to  utter  lies, 
His  very  soul  is  in  his  eyes  ; 
Single  his  aim  in  all,  and  true, 
And  apt  to  praise  what  others  do. 

No  quesftions  dark  his  spirit  vex, 
No  faithless  doubts  his  soul  perplex, 
Simply  from  day  to  day  he  lives, 
Content  with  what  the  present  gives. 
J 


146  Lyra  Germanica. 


Scarce  can  he  fraud  alone,  far  less 
Would  roam  abroad  in  loneliness  ; 
Faft  clingino-  to  his  mother  ftill 
She  bears  and  leads  him  at  her  will. 

He  will  not  ftay  to  pause  and  choose, 
His  father's  guidance  e'er  refuse, 
Thinks  not  of  danger,  fears  no  harm, 
Wrapt  in  obedience'  holy  calm. 

For  ftrange  concerns  he  careth  nought ; 
What  others  do,  although  were  wrought 
Before  his  eyes  the  worfr,  offence, 
Stains  not  his  tranquil  innocence. 

His  deareft  work,  his  befl:  delight, 
Is,  lying  in  his  mother's  fight, 
To  gaze  forever  on  her  face, 
And  neftie  in  her  fond  embrace. 

O  childhood's  innocence!  The  voice 
Of  thy  deep  wisdom  is  my  choice  ! 
Who  hath  thy  love  is  truly  wise 
And  precious  in  our  Father's  eyes. 

Spirit  of  childhood  !  loved  of  God, 
By  Jesus'  spirit  now  beftowed  ; 
How  often  have  I  long'd  for  thee  ; 
O  Jesus,  form  thyself  in  me  ! 


Lyra   Germanlca.  147 

And  help  me  to  become  a  child 
While  yet  on  earth,  meek,  undefiled, 
That  I  may  find  God  always  near, 
And  Paradise  around  me  here. 

Gerhardt   Terjleegen .      1 73 r. 


THE   CIRCUMCISION   OF   CHRIST. 

Hymn  for  Neiv  Year's  Day. 

So  teach  us  to   number  our  days  that  we  may  apply  our   hearts 
unto  wisdom.  Psalm  90:   12. 

ETERNITY  !  Eternity  ! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 
And  yet  to  thee  Time  haftes  away, 
Like  as  the  war-horse  to  the  fray, 
Or  swift  as  couriers  homeward  go, 
Or  fhip  to  port,  or  fhaft  from  bow. 
Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 
For  even  as  on  a  perfect  sphere 
End  nor  beginning  can  appear, 


148  Lyra  Germanica. 


Even  so,  Eternity,  in  thee 
Entrance  nor  exit  can  there  be. 
Ponder,  O   man,  Eternity ! 

Eternity  !  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 

A  circle  infinite  art  thou, 

Thy  centre  an  Eternal  Now, 

Never,  we  name  thy  outward  bound, 

For  never  end  therein  is  found. 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity! 

Eternity  !  Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 

A  little  bird  with  fretting  beak 

Might  wear  to  nought  the  loftieft  peak, 

Though  but  each  thousand  years  it  came, 

Yet  thou  wert  then,  as  now,  the  same. 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity  !  Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 

As  long  as  God  is  God,  so  long 

Endure  the  pains  of  hell  and  wrong, 

So  long  the  joys  of  heaven  remain  ; 

Oh  lading  joy,  Oh  Lifting  pain  ! 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity !  Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 


Lyra  Germanica.  149 

They  who  lived  poor  and  naked,  reft 
With  God  for  ever  rich  and  bleft, 
And  love  and  praise  the  higheft  good, 
In  perfect  bliss  and  gladsome  mood. 
Ponder,  O   man,  Eternity! 

Eternity  !  Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Who  ponders  oft  on  thee  is  wise, 

All  fleshly  lufts  fhall  he  despise, 

The  world  finds  place  with  him  no  more; 

The  love  of  vain  delights  is  o'er. 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity  !  Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Who  marks  thee  well  would  say  to  God, 

Here,  judge,  burn,   smite  me  with  thy  rod, 

Here,  let  me  all  thy  juftice  bear, 

When  time  of  grace  is  paft,  then  spare  ! 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity !  Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Lo,  I,  Eternity,  warn  thee, 

O  man,  that  oft  thou  think  on  me, 

The  sinner's  punifhment  and  pain, 

To  them  who  love  their  God,  rich  gain ! 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Wulffer.      1648. 


150 


SECOND   SUNDAY   AFTER   EPIPHANY. 

Lift  up  your  eyes  unto  the  heavens,  and  look  upon  the  earth  be- 
neath ;  for  the  heavens  shall  vanish  away  like  smoke,  and  the  earth 
shall  wax  old  like  a  garment,  and  the  people  that  dwell  therein  shall 
die  in  like  manner ;  but  my  salvation  shall  be  for  ever,  and  my 
righteousness  shall  not  be  abolished. 

From  the  Lesson. 

GOD  liveth  ever! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Our  God  is  good,  in  every  place 

His  love  is  known,  his  help  is  found, 
His  mighty  arm,  and  tender  grace 

Bring  good  from  ills  that  hem  us  round. 
Eafier  than  we  think  can  He 
Turn  to  joy  our  agony. 
Soul,  remember  'mid  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Say,  fhall  He  flumber,  (hall  He  fleep, 

Who  gave  the  eye  its  power  to  see  ? 
Shall  He  not  hear  his  children  weep 

Who  made  the  ear  so  wondroufly  ? 
God   is   God  ;   He  sees  and   hears 
All  their  troubles,  all  their  tears. 


Lyra  Gerrnanlca.  151 

Soul,  forget  not  'mid  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever  ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never  ! 
He  who  can  earth  and  heaven  control, 

Who  spreads  the  clouds  o'er  sea  and  land, 
Whose  presence  fills  the  mighty  Whole 
In  each  true  heart  is  close  at  hand. 

Love  Him,  He  will  surely  send 

Help  and  joy  that  never  end. 

Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 

God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever  ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never . 
Scarce  canft  thou  bear  thy  cross?     Then   fly 

To  Him  where  only  reft  is  sweet ; 
Thy  God  is  great,  his  mercy  nigh 

His  ftrength  upholds  the  tottering  feet. 

Truft  Him,  for  his  grace  is  sure, 

Ever  doth  his  truth  endure  ; 

Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 

God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever  ! 

O  my  Soul,  despair  thou  never  ! 
When  fins  and  follies  long  forgot 

Upon  thy  tortured  conscience  prey, 
O  come  to  God,  and  fear  Him  not, 


152  Lyra   Germanlca. 

His  love  mall  sweep  them  all  away. 
Pains  of  hell  at  look  of  his, 
Change  to  calm  content  and  bliss. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pain, 
God  o'er  all  doth  ever  reign. 

God  liveth  ever  ! 

Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Those  whom  the  thoughtless  world  forsakes, 

Who  ftand  bewilder'd  with  their  woe, 
God  gently  to  his  bosom  takes, 

And  bids  them  all  his  fulness  know. 
In  thy  sorrows'  swelling  flood 
Own  his  hand  who  seeks  thy  good. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 

Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Let  earth  and  heaven  outworn  with  age, 

Sink  to  the  chaos  whence  they  came  ; 
Let  angry  foes  againft  us  rage, 

Let  hell  moot  forth  his  flercefl:  flame  ; 
Fear  not  Death,  nor  Satan's  thrufts, 
God  defends  who  in  Him  trufts  ; 
Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou,  never  ! 


Lyra  Germanica.  153 

What  though  thou  tread  with  bleeding  feet 

A  thorny  path  of  grief  and  gloom, 
Thy  God  will  choose  the  way  moft  meet 

To  lead  thee  heavenwards,  lead  thee  home. 
For  this  life's  long  night  of  sadness 
He  w(ill  give  thee  peace  and  gladness. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

Zibn.      1682. 


THIRD   SUNDAY   AFTER   EPIPHANY. 

For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from  heaven ;  and 
returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring 
forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to 
the  eater  :  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth  : 
it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which 
I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it. 

From  the  Lesson. 

THY  Word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews, 
Falls  soft  on  hearts  that  pine  ; 
Lord,  to  thy  garden  ne'er  refuse 
This  heavenly  balm  of  thine. 
Water'd  from  Thee 
Let  every  tree 
Bud  forth  and  blofTom  to  thy  praise, 
And  bear  much  fruit  in  after  days. 


154  Lyra   Germanica. 

Thy  Word  is  like  a  flaming  sword, 

A  wedge  that  cleaveth  ftone  ; 
Keen  as  a  fire  so  burns  thy  Word 
And  pierceth  flefh  and  bone. 
Let  it  go  forth 
O'er  ail  the  earth 
To  purify  all  hearts  within 
And  fhattcr  all  the  might  of  sin. 

Thy  Word  a  wondrous  guiding  ftar, 

On  pilgrim  hearts  doth  rise, 

Leads  to  their  Lord  who  dwell  afar, 

And  makes  the  fimple  wise. 

Let  not  its  light 

E'er  fink  in  night, 

But  ftill  in  every  spirit  mine, 

That  none  may  miss  thy  light  divine. 


Lyra  Germanica.  J  55 


QyiNQUAGESIMA    SUNDAY. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Receive  thy  sight,  thy  faith  hath 
saved  thee  :  and  immediately  he  received  his  sight,  and  followed 
him,  glorifying  God.  From  the  Gospel. 

MY  Saviour,  what  Thou  didft  of  old 
When  Thou  waft  dwelling  here, 
Thou  doeft  yet  for  them,  who,  bold 

In  faith,  to  Thee  draw  near. 
As  Thou  hadft  pity  on  the  blind, 

According  to  thy  Word, 
Thou  sufferedft  me  thy  grace  to  find, 
Thy  Light  haft  on  me  pour'd. 

Mourning  I  sat  befide  the  way, 

In  fightless  gloom  apart, 
And  sadness  heavy  on  me  lay, 

And  longing  gnaw'd  my  heart ; 
I  heard  the  mufic  of  the  psalms 

Thy  people  sang  to  Thee, 
I  felt  the  waving  of  their  palms, 

And  yet  I  could  not  see. 

My  pain  grew  more  than  I  could  bear, 

Too  keen  my  grief  became, 
Then  I  took  heart  in  my  despair 

To  call  upon  thy  name  ; 
"O  Son  of  David,  save  and  heal, 

As  Thou  so  oft  haft  done  ! 


56  Lyra  Germanica. 


0  deareft  Jesus,  let  me  feel 

My  load  of  darkness  gone." 

And  ever  weeping  as  I  spoke 

With  bitter  prayers  and  fighs, 
My  ftony  heart  grew  soft  and  broke, 

More  earned  yet  my  cries. 
A  sudden  answer  ftill'd  my  fear, 

For  it  was  said  to  me, 
"  O  poor  blind  man,  be  of  good  cheer, 

Rejoice,  He  calleth  thee." 

1  felt,  Lord,  that  Thou  ftoodeft  ftill, 

Groping  thy  feet  I  sought, 
From  off  me  fell  my  old  self-will, 

A  change  came  o'er  my  thought. 
Thou  saidft,  "  What  is  it  Thou  wouldft  have  ?  " 

"  Lord,  that  I   might  have  fight ; 
To  see  thy  countenance  I  crave  :  " 

"  So  be  it,  have  thou  Light." 

And  words  of  thine  can  never  fail, 

My  fears  are  paft  and  o'er  ; 
My  soul  is  glad  with  light,  the  veil 

Is  on  my  heart  no  more. 
Thou  blefleft  me,  and  forth  I  fare 

Free  from  my  old  disgrace, 
And  follow  on  with  joy  where'er 

Thy  footfteps,  Lord,  I  trace. 

De  La  Mottc  Fouque. 


Lyra  Germanica.  157 


SECOND    SUNDAY    IN   LENT. 

And  the  disciples  said,  Send  her  away,  for  she  crieth  after  us  ; 
....  But  he  said,  Great  is  thy  faith,  be  it  unto  thee  even  as 
thou  wilt.  From  the  Gospel. 

I    WILL    not    let    Thee    go  ;    Thou  Help    in    time    of 
need  ! 
Heap  ill  on  ill 
I  truft  Thee  ftill, 
E'en  when  it  seems  as  Thou  wouldft  flay  indeed ! 
Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me, 
I  yet  will  cling  to  Thee, 
Hide  Thou  thy  face,  yet,  Help  in  time  of  need, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ;  mould  I  forsake  my  bliss  ? 

No,  Lord,  thou'rt  mine, 

And  I  am  thine, 
Thee  will  I  hold  when  all  things  else  I  miss. 

Though  dark  and  sad  the  night, 

Joy  cometh  with  thy  light, 

0  Thou  my  Sun  ;  fhould  I  forsake  my  bliss  ? 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

1  will  not  let  Thee  go,  my  God,  my  Life,  my  Lord ! 

Not  Death  can  tear 
Me  from  his  care, 
Who  for  my  sake  his  soul  in  death  outpour'd. 


5^  Lyra   Germanica. 


Thou  diedft  for  love  to  me, 
I  say  in  love  to  Thee, 
E'en  when  my  heart  fhall  break,  my  God,  my  Life,  my 
Lord, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go ! 

Deszler.      1692. 


THIRD   SUNDAY   AFTER   EASTER. 

And  ye  now  therefore  have  sorrow  ;  but  I  will  see  you  again, 
and  your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from 
you.  From  the  Gospel. 

COMETH  sunfhine  after  rain, 
After  mourning  joy  again, 
After  heavy  bitter  grief 
Dawneth  surely  sweet  relief; 

And  my  soul,  who  from  her  height 
Sank  to  realms  of  woe  and  night, 
Wingeth  now  to  heaven  her  flight. 

He,  whom  this  world  dares  not  face, 
Hath  refrem'd  me  with  his  grace, 
And  his  mighty  hand  unbound 
Chains  of  hell  about  me  wound  ; 


Lyra  Germanica.  159 

Quicker,  ftronger,  leaps  my  blood, 
Since  his  mercy,  like  a  flood, 
Pour'd  o'er  all  my  heart  for  good. 

Eitter  anguifh  have  I  borne 
Keen  regret  my  heart  hath  torn, 
Sorrow  dimm'd  my  weeping  eyes, 
Satan  blinded  me  with  lies  ; 

Yet  at  laft  am  I   set  free, 

Help,  protection,  love,  to  me 

Once  more  true  companions  be. 

Ne'er  was  left  a  helpless  prey, 
Ne'er  with  fhame  was  turn'd  away, 
He  who  gave  himself  to  God, 
And  on  Him  had  caft  a  load. 

Who  in  God  his  hope  hath  placed 

Shall  not  life  in  pain  outwafte, 

Fulleft  joy  he  yet  fhall  tafte. 

Though  to-day  may  not  fulfil 
All  thy  hopes,  have  patience  still ; 
For  perchance  to-morrow's  sun 
Sees  thy  happier  days  begun. 

As  God  willeth  march  the  hours, 

Bringing  joy  at  laft  in  fhowers, 

And  whate'er  we  afked  is  ours. 

When  my  heart  was  vex'd  with  care, 
Fill'd  with  fears,  well-nigh  despair  ; 


;6o  Lyra  G 


er  manic  a. 


When  with  watching  many  a  night 

On  me  fell  pale  fickness'  blight ; 

When  my  courage  fail'd  me  faft, 
Cameft  Thou,  my  God,  at  laft, 
And  my  woes  were  quickly  part. 

Now  as  long  as  here  I  roam, 
On  this  earth  have  house  and  home, 
Shall  this  wondrous  gleam  from  Thee 
Shine  through  all  my  memory. 

To  my  God  I  yet  will  cling, 

All  my  life  the  praises  fing 

That  from  thankful  hearts  outspring. 

Every  sorrow,  every  smart, 

That  the  Eternal  Father's  heart 

Hath  appointed  me  of  yore, 

Or  hath  yet  for  me  in  (lore, 

As  my  life  flows  on  I'll  take 

Calmly,  gladly  for  his  sake, 

No  more  faithless  murmurs  make. 

I  will  meet  diftress  and  pain, 

I  will  greet  e'en  death's  dark  reign, 

I  will  lay  me  in  the  grave, 

With  a  heart  ftill  glad  and  brave. 

Whom  the  Strongeft  doth  defend, 
Whom  the  Higheft  counts  his  friend, 
Cannot  perifh  in  the  end. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1659. 


Lyra  Germanlca.  161 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away,  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the 
Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. 

From  the  Gospel. 

OHOLY  Ghoft  !  Thou  fire  Divine  ! 
From  highelt  heaven  on  us  down  mine  ; 
Comforter,  be  thy  comfort  mine  ! 

Come,  Father  of  the  poor,  to  earth  ; 
Come  with  thy  gifts  of  precious  worth  ; 
Come,  Light  of  all  of  mortal  birth  ! 

Thou  rich  in  comfort !    Ever  bleft 

The  heart  where  Thou  art  conftant  gueft, 

Who  giv'ft  the  heavy-laden  reft. 

Come,  Thou  in  whom  our  toil  is  sweet, 
Our  fhadow  in  the  noon-day  heat, 
Before  whom  mourning  flieth  fleet. 

Bright  Sun  of  Grace  !  Thy  sunfhine  dart 
On  all  who  cry  to  Thee  apart, 
And  fill  with  gladness  every  heart. 
K 


1 62  Lyra   Germanica. 


Whate'er  without  thy  aid  is  wrought, 
Or  fkilful  deed  or  wiseft  thought, 
God  counts  it  vain  and  merely  nought. 

O  cleanse  us  that  we  fin  no  more, 
O'er  parched  souls  thy  waters  pour  ; 
Heal  the  sad  heart  that  acheth  sore. 

Thy  will  be  ours  in  all  our  ways  ; 
O  melt  the  frozen  with  thy  rays  ; 
Call  home  the  loft  in  error's  maze. 

And  grant  us,  Lord,  who  cry  to  Thee, 
And  hold  the  faith  in  unity, 
Thy  precious  gifts  of  charity  ; 

That  we  may  live  in  holiness, 
And  find  in  death  our  happiness, 
And  dwell  with  Thee  in  lafting  bliss. 

King  Robert  of  France  about  A.   D. 


Lyra  Germanica.  163 


TRINITY   SUNDAY. 

And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image. 

From  the  Lesson. 

MOST  High  and  Holy  Trinity ! 
Who  of  thy  mercy  mild 
Haft  form'd  me  here  in  time,  to  be 

Thy  image  and  thy  child  : 
Oh  let  me  love  Thee  day  and  night 
With  all  my  soul,  with  all  my  might  ; 
Oh  come,  thyself  my  soul  prepare, 
And  make  thy  dwelling  ever  there  ! 

Father!  replenifh  with  thy  grace 

This  longing  heart  of  mine, 
Make  it  thy  quiet  dwelling-place, 

Thy  sacred  inmoft  fhrine ! 
Forgive  that  oft  my  spirit  wears 
Her  time  and  ftrength  in  trivial  cares, 
Enfold  her  in  thy  changeless  peace, 
So  fhe  from  all  but  Thee  may  cease  ! 

O  God  the  Son  !  thy  wisdom's  light 

On  my  dark  reason  pour  ; 
Forgive  that  things  of  sense  and  fight, 

Were  all  her  joy  of  yore  ; 


(>4-  Lyra  Germanica. 


Henceforth  let  every  thought  and  deed 
On  Thee  be  fix'd,  from  Thee  proceed, 
Draw  me  to  Thee,  for  I  would  rise 
Above  these  earthly  vanities  ! 

O,  Holy  Ghoft!     Thou  fire  of  love, 
Enkindle  with  thy  flame  my  will  ; 

Come,  with  thy  ftrength,  Lord,  from  above, 
Help  me  thy  bidding  to  fulfil  : 

Forgive  that  I  so  oft  have  done  . 

What  I  as  finful  ought  to  fhun  ; 

Let  me  with  pure  and  quenchless  fire 

Thy  favor  and  thyself  defire  ! 

Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 

Draw  me  away  far  hence, 
And  fix  upon  eternity 

All  powers  of  soul  and  sense! 
Make  me  at  one  within  ;    at  one 
With  Thee  on  earth  ;    when  life  is  done 
Take  me  to  dwell  in  light  with  Thee, 
Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 

Angclm.      1657. 


^Xi 


Lyra    Germanlca.  165 


THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Cast  all  your  care  upon  Him,  for  He  careth  for  you. 

From  the  Epistle. 

GOD  !     Thou  art  my  Rock  of  ftrength, 
And  my  home  is  in  thine  arms, 
Thou  wilt  send  me  help  at  length, 

And  I  feel  no  wild  alarms. 
Sin  nor  Death  can  pierce  the  fhield 

Thy  defence  has  o'er  me  thrown, 
Up  to  Thee  myself  I  yield, 

And  my  sorrows  are  thine  own. 

On  Thee,  O  my  God,  I  reft, 

Letting  life  float  calmly  on, 
For  I  know  the  laft  is  beft, 

When  the  crown  of  joy  is  won. 
In  thy  might  all  things  I  bear, 

In  thy  love  find  bitters  sweet, 
And  with  all  my  grief  and  care 

Sit  in  patience  at  thy  feet. 

O,  my  soul,  why  art  thou  vex'd  ? 

Let  things  go  e'en  as  they  will ; 
Though  to  thee  they  seem  perplex'd 

Yet  his  order  they  fulfil. 
Here  He  is  thy  ftrength  and  guard, 

Power  to  harm  thee  here  has  none  ; 


1 66  Lyra    Gcrmanica. 


Yonder  will  He  each  reward 

For  the  works  he  here  has  done. 

Let  thy  mercy's  wings  be  spread 

O'er  me,  keep  me  close  to  Thee, 
In  the  peace  thy  love  doth  {hed, 

Let  me  dwell  eternally. 
Be  my  All  ;    in  all  I  do 

Let  me  only  seek  thy  will, 
Where  the  heart  to  Thee  is  true, 

All  is  peaceful,  calm,  and  still. 

A.  H.  Francke.      1 663-1  727. 


NINTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

How  long  halt  ye  between  two  opinions  ?     If  the  Lord  be  God, 
follow  him  ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him. 

From  the  Lesson. 

WHY  halted  thus,  deluded  heart, 
Why  waverelr.  longer  in  thy  choice  ? 
Is  it  so  hard  to  choose  the  part 

Offer'd  by  Heaven's  entreating  voice  ? 
Oh  look  with  clearer  eyes  again, 
Nor  ftrive  to  enter  in,  in  vain. 

Press  on  ! 
y 

Remember,  'tis  not  Caesar's  throne, 

Nor  earthly  honor,  wealth,  or  might, 


Lyra  Germanlca.  167 

Whereby  God's  favor  fhall  be  fliown 

To  him  who  conquers  in  this  fight ; 
Himself  and  an  eternity 
Of  bliss  and  reft  He  offers  thee. 
Press  on  ! 

Then  break  the  rotten  bonds  away, 

That  hinder  you  your  race  to  run, 

That  make  you  linger  oft  and  ftay  ; 
Oh,  be  your  course  afrefh  begun  ! 

Let  no  false  reft  your  soul  deceive, 

Up  !    'tis  a  Heaven  ye  muft  achieve  ! 
Press  on ! 

Omnipotence  is  on  your  fide, 

And  wisdom  watches  o'er  your  heads, 
And  God  himself  will  be  your  guide 

So  ye  but  follow  where  He  leads  j 
How  many  guided  by  his  hand, 
Have  reach'd  ere  now  their  native  land. 
Press  on  ! 

Let  not  the  body  dull  the  soul, 

Its  weakness,  fears,  and  floth  despise  ; 

Man  toils  and  roams  from  pole  to  pole 
To  gain  some  earthly  fleeting  prize, 

The  higheft  good  he  little  cares 

To  win,  or  ftriving  soon  despairs. 
Press  on  ! 


168  Lyra  Germanica. 


Oh,  help  each  other,  haften  on, 

Behold  the  goal  is  nigh  at  hand  ; 
Soon  fhall  the  battle-field  be  won, 

Soon  (hall  your  King  before  you   ftand  ! 
To  calmeft  reft  He  leads  you  now, 
And  sets  his  crown  upon  your  brow. 
Press  on  ! 

Lehr.      1733. 


ELEVENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

In  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy  ;    at    thy  right    hand    there    are 
pleasures  for  evermore.  Psalm   16:    12. 

f~\   FRIEND  of  souls,  how  well  is  me 
^~*      Whene'er  thy  love  my  spirit  calms  ! 
From  sorrow's  dungeon  forth  I  flee 

And  hide  me  in  thy  fhelt'ring  arms. 
The  night  of  weeping  flies  away 
Before  the  heat-reviving  ray 

Of  love,  that  beams  from  out  thy  bread  ; 
Here  is  my  heaven  on  earth  begun  ; 
Who  were  not  joyful  had  he  won 

In  Thee,  O  God,  his  joy  and  reft  ! 

The  world  may  call  herself  my  foe, 
So  be   it  ;    for  I   truft   her  not, 


Lyra  Germanica.  169 

E'en  though  a  friendly  face  fhe  fhow, 

And  heap  with  her  good  things  my  lot. 

In  Thee  alone  will  I  rejoice, 

Thou  art  the  Friend,  Lord,  of  my  choice, 
For  Thou  art  true  when  friendfhips  fail ; 

'Mid  florins  of  woe  thy  truth  is  ftill 

My  anchor  ;    hate  me  as   it  will, 

The  world  fhall  o'er  me  ne'er  prevail. 

Through  deserts  of  the  cross  Thou  leadeft, 

I  follow  leaning  on  thy  hand  ; 
From  out  the  clouds  thy  child   Thou  feedefr, 

And  giv'ft  him  water  from  the  sand. 
I  know  thy  wondrous  ways  will  end 
In  love  and  bleffing,  Thou  true  Friend, 

Enough  if  Thou  art  ever  near ! 
I  know,  whom  Thou  wilt  glorify, 
And  raise  o'er  sun  and  ftars  on  high, 

Thou  lead'ft  through  depths  and  darkness  here. 

Deszler.      1692. 


:yo  Lyra  Germanica. 


THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Then  Hczekiah  received  the  letter  at  the  hands  of  the  messenger, 
and  read  it,  and  Hezekiah  went  up  into  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and 
spread  it  before  the  Lord.  From  the  Lesson. 

LEAVE  God  to  order  all  thy  ways, 
And  hope  in  Him  whate'er  betide, 
Thou'lt  find  Him  in  the  evil   days 

Thy  all-sufficient  ftrength  and  guide  ; 
Who  trufts  in  God's  unchanging  love, 
Builds  on  the  rock  that  nought  can  move. 

What  can  these  anxious  cares  avail 

These  never-ceafing  moans  and  fighs  ? 

What  can  it  help  us  to  bewail 

Each  painful  moment  as  it  flies? 

Our  cross  and  trials  do  but  press 

The  heavier  for  our  bitterness. 

Only  thy  reftless  heart  keep  ftill, 

And  wait  in  cheerful  hope  ;    content 

To  take  whate'er  his  gracious  will, 
His  all-discerning  love  hath  sent. 

Doubt  not  our  inmoft  wants  arc   known 

To   Him  who  chose  us  for  his  own. 


Lyra  Germanica.  1 7  : 

He  knows  when  joyful  hours  are  beft, 
He  sends  them  as  He  sees  it  meet ; 

When  thou  haft  borne  the  fiery  teft, 
And  art  made  free  from  all  deceit, 

He  comes  to  thee  all  unaware 

And  makes  thee  own  his  loving  care. 

Nor  in  the  heat  of  pain  and  ftrife, 

Think  God  hath  caft  thee  off  unheard, 

And  that  the  man,  whose  prosperous  life 
Thou  envieft,  is  of  Him  preferr'd. 

Time  pafles  and  much  change  doth  bring, 

And  sets  a  bound  to  every  thing. 

All  are  alike  before  his  face  ; 

'Tis  easy  to  our  God  moft  High 
To  make  the  rich  man  poor  and  base, 

To  give  the  poor  man  wealth  and  joy. 
True  wonders  ftill  by  Him  are  wrought, 
Who  setteth  up,  and  brings  to  nought. 

Sing,  pray,  and  swerve  not  from  his  ways, 
But  do  thine  own  part  faithfully, 

Truft  his  rich  promises  of  grace 

So  mail  they  be  fulfill'd  in  thee  ; 

God  never  yet  forsook  at  need 

The  soul  that  trufted   Him  indeed. 

Neumarck.      1653. 


72  Lyt 


rermanica. 


MORNING  HYMN. 

COME,  my  soul,  awake,  'tis  morning, 
Day  is  dawning 
O'er  the  earth,  arise  and  pray  ; 
Come,  to  Him  who  made  this  splendor, 

Thou  muft  render 
All  thy  feeble  powers  can  pay. 

From  the  ftars  now  learn  thy  duty, 

See  their  beauty 
Paling  in  the  golden  air  ; 
So  God's  light  thy  mifts  mould  banifh, 

Thus  mould  vanifh 
What  to  darken'd  sense  seem'd   fair. 

See  how  every  thing  that  liveth, 

Gladly  ftriveth 
On  the  pleasant  light  to  gaze  ; 
Stirs  with  joy  each  thing  that  groweth, 

As  it  knoweth 
Darkness  smitten  by  its  rays. 

Soul,  thy  incense  also  proffer ; 

Thou  mould  ft  offer 
Praise  to  Him,  who  from  thy  head 


Lyra  Germanica.  173 

Kept  afar  the  ftorms  of  sorrow, 

That  the  morrow- 
Finds  the  night  in  peace  hath  fled. 

Bid  Him  bless  what  thou  art  doing, 

If  pursuing 
Some  good  aim  ;    but  if  there  lurks 
111  intent  in  thine  endeavor, 

May  He  ever 
Thwart  and  turn  thee   from  thy  works. 

Think  that  He,  the  all-discerning, 

Knows  each  turning 
Of  thy  path,  each  finful  ftain  ; 
Nay,  what  fhame  would  fain  gloss  over, 

Can  discover  ; 
All  thou  doft  to  Him  is  plain. 

Bound  unto  the  flying  hours 

Are  our  powers  ; 
Earth's  vain  good  floats  down  their  wave, 
That  thy  (hip,  my  soul,  is  halting, 

Never  refting, 
To  its  haven  in  the  grave. 

Pray  that  when  thy  life  is  clofing, 

Calm  repofing, 
Thou  mayft  die,  and  not  in  pain  ; 
That  the  night  of  death  departed, 


*74 

Lyra  Germanica. 

Thou  glad-hearted, 

Mayft 

behold  the  Sun  again. 

From 

God's  glances  fhrink  thou  never, 

Meet  them  ever  ; 

Who 

submits  him  to  his  grace, 

Finds 

that  earth  no  sunfhine  knoweth 

Such  as  gloweth 

O'er  ] 

lis  pathway  all  his  days. 

Waken'ft  thou  again  to  sorrow, 

Oh !    then  borrow 

Streng 

th  from  Him,  whose  sun-like  might 

On  th 

e  mountain-summit  tarries, 

And  yet  carries 

To  th 

e  vales  their  mirth  and  light. 

Round  the  gifts  He  on  thee  mowers, 

Fiery  towers 
Will  He  set,  be  not  afraid  ; 
Thou  fhalt  dwell  'mid  angel-legions, 

In  the  regions 
Satan's  self  dares  not  invade. 

Von  Conitz.      1 654-1 699. 


Lyra  Germanica.  175 


FOR  THE  SICK  AND  DYING. 

GOD  !    whom  I  as  Love  have  known, 
Thou  haft  fickness  laid  on  me, 
And  these  pains  are  sent  of  Thee, 
Under  which  I  burn  and  moan ; 
Let  them  burn  away  the  fin, 

That  too  oft  hath  check'd  the  love 
Wherewith  Thou  my  heart  wouldft  move, 
When  thy  Spirit  works  within  ! 

In  my  weakness  be  Thou  ftrong, 

Be  Thou  sweet  when   I  am  sad, 

Let  me  ftill  in  Thee  be  glad, 
Though  my  pains  be  keen  and  long. 
All  that  plagues  my  body  now, 

All  that  wafteth  me  away, 

Prefiing  on  me  night  and  day, 
Love  hath  sent,  for  Love  art  Thou ! 

Suffering  is  the  work  now  sent, 

Nothing  can  I  do  but  lie 

Suffering  as  the  hours  go  by ; 
All  my  powers  to  this  are  bent. 
Suffering  is  my  gain  ;   I  bow 

To  my  heavenly  Father's  will 

And  receive  it  hufh'd  and  ftill  ; 
Suffering  is    my  worfhip  now. 

Richter,   17 13. 


i76 

Lyra   Germanica. 

FOR  THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD. 

\TOW  refts  her  soul  in  Jesus'  arms, 

i> 

'     Her  body  in  the  grave  fleeps  well, 

His 

heart  her  death-chill'd  heart  rewarms, 

And  reft  more  deep  than  tongue  can  tell, — 

Her 

few  brief  hours  of  conflict  paff'd, — 

She 

finds  with  Chrift,  her  Friend,  at  laft  ; 

She  bathes  in  tranquil  seas  of  peace, 

God  wipes  away  her  tears,  fhe  feels 

New  life  that  all  her  languor  heals, 

The 

glory  of  the  Lamb  fhe  sees. 

She 

hath  escaped  all  danger  now, 

Her  pain  and  fighing  all  are  fled  ; 

The 

crown  of  joy  is  on  her  brow, 

Eternal  glories  o'er  her  fhed, 

In  golden  robes,  a  queen,  a  bride, 

She 

ftandcth  at  her  Sovereign's  fide, 

She 

sees  his  face  unveil'd  and  bright ; 

With  joy  and  love   He  greets  her  soul 

She  sees  herself  made  inly  whole, 

A  1 

sfler  light  amid  his  light. 

The 

child  hath  now  its  Father  seen, 

And   feels  what  kindling  love  may  be, 

And 

knoweth  what  those  words  may  mean, 

"  Himself,  the  Father,  loveth  thee." 

Lyra   Germanica. 


11 


A  fhoreless  ocean,  an  abyss 

Unfathom'd,  fill'd  with  good  and  bliss, 

Now  breaks  on  her  enraptured  fight  ; 

She  sees  God's  face,  fhe  learneth  there 
What  this  fhall  be,  to  be  his  heir, 

Joint  heir  with  Chrift  her  Lord,  in  light. 

Allendorf,    1 725. 


LYRA    APOSTOLICA. 


Lyra  Apojlolica. 


LYRA   APOSTOLICA. 


HOLINESS. 
"  The  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much." 

THERE  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 
But  may  obtain  a  place 
In  covenanted  grace  ; 
So  that  forthwith  his  prayer  of  faith  obtains 

Release  of  his  guilt-ftains, 
And  firft-fruits  of  the  second  birth,  which  rise 
From  gift  to  gift,  and  reach  at  length  the  eternal  prize. 

All  may  save  self ; — but  minds  that  heavenward  tower, 
Aim  at  a  wider  power, 
Gifts  on  the  world  to  fhower. — 

And  this  is  not  at  once  ; — by  failings  gained, 
And  trials  well  suftained, 

By  pureness,  righteous  deeds,  and  toils  of  love, 

Abidance  in  the  truth,  and  zeal  for  God  above. 


[82  Lyra  Apojlolica. 


AFFLICTION. 
"  Thou  in  faithfulness  hast  afflicted  me." 

LORD,  in  this  duft  thy  sovereign  voice 
Firft  quickened  love  divine  ; 
I  am  all  thine, — thy  care  and  choice, 
My  very  praise  is  thine. 

I  praise  Thee,  while  thy  providence 

In  childhood  frail  I  trace, 
For  bleflings  given,  ere  dawning  sense 

Could  seek  or  scan  thy  grace  ; 

Bleflings  in  boyhood's  marvelling  hour 

Bright  dreams,  and  fancyings  ftrange  ; 

Bleflings,  when  reason's  awful  power 
Gave  thought  a  bolder  range  ; 

Bleflings  of  friends,  which  to  my  door 
Unafked,  unhoped,  have  come  ; 

And,  choicer  {till,  a  countless  {tore 
Of  eager  smiles  at  home. 

Yet,  Lord,  in  memory's  fondeft  place 

I   {hrine  those  seasons  sad, 
When,  looking  up,  I  saw  thy  face 

In  kind  auftereness  clad. 


Lyra  Apojiolica.  183 


I  would  not  miss  one  ngh  or  tear 
Heart-pang  or  throbbing  brow  ; 

Sweet  was  the  chaftisement  severe, 
And  sweet  its  memory  now. 

Yes  !    let  the  fragrant  scars  abide, 

Love-tokens  in  thy  ftead, 
Faint  fhadows  of  the  spear-pierced  fide, 

And  thorn-encompafTed  head. 

And  such  thy  loving  force  be  ftill, 
'Mid  life's  fierce  fhifting  fray, 

Shaping  to  Truth  self's  froward  will 
Along  thy  narrow  way. 

Deny  me  wealth  ;    far,  far  remove 
The  lure  of  power  or  name ; 

Hope  thrives  in  ftraits,  in  weakness  Love, 
And  Faith  in  this  world's  fhame. 


[84  Lyra  Apojlolica. 


DISCIPLINE. 

WHEN  I  look  back  upon  my  former  race, 
Seasons  I  see,  at  which  the  Inward  Ray 
More  brightly  burned,  or  guided  some  new  way  ; 
Truth,  in  its  wealthier  scene  and  nobler  space, 
Given  for  my  eye  to  range,  and  feet  to  trace, 
And  next  I   mark,  'twas  trial  did  convey, 
Or  grief,  or  pain,  or  ftrange  eventful  day, 
To  my  tormented  soul  such  larger  grace. 
So  now,  whene'er,  in  journeying  on,  I  feel 
The  fhadow  of  the  Providential  Hand, 
Deep  breathless  ftirrings  moot  across  my  breaft, 
Searching  to  know  what  He  will  now  reveal, 
What  fin  uncloak,  what  stricter  rule  command, 
And  girding  me  to  work  his  full  beheft. 


LEAD  THOU  ME  ON. 

SHED  kindly  light  amid  the  encircling  gloom 
And  lead  me  on! 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
Keep  Thou  my  feet :   I  do  not  afk  to  see 
The  dijiant  scene  :  one  ftep  enough  for  me. 


Lyra  Apoftotica.  185 


I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  Thou 
Should'ft  lead  me  on  ! 

I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path,  but  now- 
Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 

I  loved  day's  dazzling  light,  and  spite  of  fears 

Pride  ruled  my  will  ;    remember  not  paft  years ! 

So  long  thy  power  hath  blefTed  me,  surely  frill 

'Twill  lead  me  on ! 
Through  dreary  doubt,  through  pain  and  sorrow  till 

The  night  is  gone. 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  fince,  and  loft  awhile. 


DEEDS  NOT  WORDS. 

PRUNE  thou  thy  words,  the  thoughts  control 
That  o'er  thee  swell  and  throng; 
They  will  condense  within  thy  soul 
And  change  to  purpose  ftrong. 

But  he,  who  lets  his  feelings  run 

In  soft  luxurious  flow, 
Shrinks  when  hard  service  muft  be  done, 

And  faints  at  every  woe. 


86  Lyra  Apojldica. 

Faith's  meaneft  deed  more  favour  bears, 
Where  hearts  and  wills  are  weighed, 

Than  brighteft  transports,  choiceft  prayers, 
Which  bloom  their  hour  and  fade. 


HOLINESS. 
"  Be  strong,  and  He  shall  comfort  thine  heart." 

"  T    ORD,  I  have  fafted,   I  have  prayed, 

•■— '      And  sackcloth  has  my  girdle  been, 
To  purge  my  soul  I  have  e flayed 

With  hunger  blank  and  vigil  keen. 
O  God  of  mercy  !    why  am  I 
Still  haunted  by  the  self  I  fly  ?  " 

Sackcloth  is  a  girdle  good, 

O  bind  it  round  thee  ftill  ; 
Fafting,  it  is  angels'  food, 

And  Jesus  loved  the  night-air  chill  ; 
Yet  think  not  prayer  and  fall  were  given 
To  make  one  ftep  'twixt  earth  and  heaven. 


Lyra  Jpo/Iolica.  187 


DAVID    AND    JONATHAN. 

'  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  women." 

O   HEART  of  fire!    misjudged  by  wilful  man, 
Thou  flower  of  JeiTe's  race  ! 
What  woe  was  thine,  when  thou  and  Jonathan 

Laft  greeted  face  to  face  ! 
He  doom'd  to  die,  thou  on  us  to  impress 
The  portent  of  a  blood-ftained  holiness. 

Yet  it  was  well  : — for  so,  mid  cares  of  rule, 

And  crime's  encircling  tide, 
A  spell  was  o'er  thee,  zealous  one,  to  cool 

Earth-joy  and  kingly  pride  ; 
With  battle-scene  and  pageant,  prompt  to  blend 
The  pale  calm  sceptre  of  a  blameless  friend. 

Ah  !    had  he  lived,  before  thy  throne  to  ftand 

Thy  spirit  keen  and  high, 
Sure  it  had  snapped  in  twain  love's  flender  band, 

So  dear  in  memory ; 
Paul's  ftrife  unbleft,*  its  serious  leflbn  gives, 
He  bides  with  us  who  dies,  he  is  but  loft  who  lives. 

*   Acts  K  :     7Q. 


Lyra   Apoftol'ica. 


BEREAyEMENT. 

'  Wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  duft  and  ashes." 

Job  xlii 

AND  dare  I  say,  "  welcome  to  me 
The  pang  that  proves  thee  near  ?  " 
O  words,  too  oft  on  bended  knee 

Breathed  to  the  Unerring  Ear. 
While  the  cold  spirit  filently 

Pines  at  the  scourge  severe. 

Nay,  try  once  more — thine  eyelids  close 

For  prayer  intense  and  meek  : 
When  the  warm  light  gleams  through  and  fhows 

Him  near  who  helps  the  weak. 
Unmurmuring  then  thy  heart's  repose 

In  duft  and  afhes  seek. 

But  when  the  self-abhorring  thrill 

Is  paft,  as  pass  it  muft, 
When  tasks  of  life  thy  spirit  fill, 

Risen  from  thy  tears  and  duft, 
Then  be  the  self-renouncing  will 

The  seal  of  thy  calm  truft. 


Lyra  Apojlolica. 


CONFESSION. 

MY  smile  is  bright,  my  glance  is  free, 
My  voice  is  calm  and  clear  ; 
Dear  friend,  I  seem  a  type  to  thee 
Of  holy  love  and  fear. 

But  I  am  scanned  by  eyes  unseen, 
And  these  no  saint  surround  ; 

They  mete  what  is,  by  what  has  been, 
And  joy  the  loft  is  found. 

Erst  my  good  Angel  fhrank  to   see 
My  thoughts  and  ways  of  ill ; 

And  now  he  scarce  dare  gaze  on  me, 
Scar-seamed  and  crippled  ftill. 


190 


Lyra  Apojlolica. 


FAITH. 


It  is  I :  be  not  afraid." 


WHEN  I  fink  down  in  gloom  or  fear, 
Hope  blighted  or  delayed, 
Thy  whisper,  Lord,  my  heart  fhall  cheer 
"  'Tis  I  :  be  not  afraid  !  " 

Or,  ftartled  at  some  sudden  blow, 

If  fretful  thoughts  I   feel, 
"Fear  not,  it  is  but  I  !  "  (hall  flow 

As  balm  my  wound  to  heal. 

Nor  will  I  quit  thy  way,  though  foes 

Some  onward  pass  defend  j 
From  each  rough  voice  the  watchword  goes, 

"  Be  not  afraid  !  .   .   .   a  friend  !  " 


And  O  !     when  judgment's  trumpet  clear 
Awakes  me  fiom  the  grave, 

Still  in  its  echo  may  I  hear, 

"  'Tis  Chrift  !     He  comes  to  save." 


Lyra  Apojiolica.  19 1 


HOME. 

BANISHED  the  House  of  sacred  reft 
Amid  a  thoughtless  throng, 
At  length  I  heard  its  Creed  confeffed, 
And  knelt  the  Saints  among. 

Artless  his  ftrain  and  unadorned, 

Who  spoke  Chrift's  meflage  there  ; 

But  what  at  home  I  might  have  scorned, 
Now  charmed  my  famifhed  ear. 

Lord,  grant  me  this  abiding  grace, 
Thy  Word  and   Sons  to  know  ; 

To  pierce  the  veil  on  Moses'  face, 
Although  his  speech  be  flow  ! 


Lyra  Innocentium.  195 


LYRA    INNOCENTIUM. 


UNWEARIED    LOVE. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until  seven  times  ;  but 
until  seventy  times  seven." 

MY  child,  the  counsels  high  attend 
Of  thine  Eternal  Friend. 
When  longings  pure,  when  holy  prayers, 
When  self-denying  thoughts  and  cares 

Room  in  thy  heart  would  win, 
Stay  not  too  long  to  count  them  o'er  ; 
Rise  in  His  name  ;    throw  wide  the  door, 
Let  the  good  Angels  in  : 

Nor  liften,  mould  the  Tempter  say, 

"  How  wearying,  day  by  day, 
To  say  the  prayer  we  said  before, 
The  mountain  path  climb  o'er  and  o'er, 
No  end  to  warfare  find!" 


196  Lyra   Innocentium. 


Nor  seek  thou  limit  to  discern 
In  patient  woe,  in  duty  (tern, 

But  learn  thy  (Saviour's)  mind. 

He  pardoning  wearies  not.      Ah  why 

Behold  with  evil  eye 
Thy  brother  afking  grace  for  fin  ? 
He  doth  but  aid  thee,  more  to  win 

Of  hope  in  thy  laft  end. 
In  heart  forgive — that  pays   Him  all  : 
But  grudging  souls  muft  die  in  thrall, 

No  Saviour  and  no  Friend. 


THE  BOY  WITH  THE  FIVE  LOAVES. 
[f  thou  hast  little,  do  thy  diligence  gladly  to  give  of  that  little." 


w 


HAT  time  the  Saviour  spread  his  feaft 
For  thousands  on  the  mountain's  fide, 
One  of  the  laft  and  leaft 

The  abundant  store  supplied. 

Haply  the  wonders  to  behold, 

A  boy,  'mid  other  boys  he  came, 
A  lamb  of  Jesus'  fold, 

Though  now  unknown  by  name. 


Lyra  Innocentium.  197 


Or  for  his  sweet  obedient  ways 

The  Apoftles  brought  him  near,  to  fhare 
Their  Lord's  laborious  days, 
His  frugal  bafket  bear. 

Or  might  it  be  his  duteous  heart 
That  led  him  sacrifice  to  bring 
For  his  own  fimple  part, 

To  the  world's  hidden  King  ? 

Well  may  I  guess  how  glow'd  his  cheek, 
How  he  look'd  down,  half  pride,  half  fear 
Far  off  he  saw  one  speak 
Of  him  in  Jesus'  ear. 

"  There  is  a  lad — five  loaves  hath  he, 
And  fifties  twain — but  what  are  they, 
Where  hungry  thousands  be  ?  " 
Nay,  Chrift  will  find  a  way. 

In  order,  on  the  frefh  green  hill, 

The  mighty  Shepherd  ranks  his  fheep 
By  tens  and  fifties,  ftill 

As  clouds  when  breezes  fleep. 

Or  who  can  tell  the  trembling  joy, 
Who  paint  the  grave  endearing  look, 
When  from  that  favored  boy 

The  wondrous  pledge  He  took? — 


198  Lyra   Innocentium. 


Keep  thou,  dear  child,  thine  early  word  j 
Bring  Him  thy  beft  :    who  knows  but  He 
For  his  eternal  board 

May  take  some  gift  of  thee  ? 

Thou  prayeft  without  the  veil  as  yet  : 
But  kneel  in  faith  :   an  arm  benign 
Such  prayers  will  duly  set 
Within  the  holieft  fhrine. 

And  Prayer  has  might  to  spread  and  grow. 
Thy  childiih  darts,  right-aim'd  on  high, 
May  catch  Heaven's  fire,  and  glow 
Far  in  the  eternal  fky : 

Even  as  He  made  that  ftripling's  ftore 
Type  of  the  feaft  by  Him  decreed, 
Where  Angels  might  adore, 
And  souls  for  ever  feed. 


Lyra  Innocentium.  199 


HEZEKTAH'S   DISPLAY. 

"  There  is  nothing  among  my  treasures  that  I  have  not  showed 
them." 

WHEN  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return, 
And  Angels  bring  thee  treasures  from  on  high, 
Shut  fast  the  door,  nor  let  the  world  discern, 
And  offer  thee  fond  praise  when  God  is  nigh. 

In  friendly  guise,  perchance  with  friendly  heart, 
From  Babel,  see,  they  hafte  with  words  of  love  : 

But  if  thou  lightly  all  thy  wealth  impart, 

Their  race  will  come  again,  and  all  remoyje. 

Ill  thoughts,  the  children  of  that  King  of  Pride, 
O'er  richeft  halls  will  swarm,  and  holieft  bowers, 

Profaning  firft,  then  spoiling  far  and  wide  : 

Voluptuous  Sloth  make  free  with  Sharon's  flowers. 

Close  thou  the  garden-gate,  and  keep  the  key, 
There  chiefly,  where  the  tender  seedlings  fold 

Their  dainty  leaves — a  treasure  even  to  thee 
Unknown,  till  air  celeftial  make  them  bold. 

When  sun  and  mower  give  token,  freely  then 
The  fragrance  will  fteal  out,  the  flower  unclose  : 


Lyra   Innocentium. 


But  busy  hands,  and  an  admiring  ken, 

Have  blighted  ere  its  hour  full  many  a  rose. 

Then  reft  thee,  bright  one,  in  thy  tranquil  nook, 
Fond  eyes  to  cherifh  thee,  true  arms  to  keep, 

Nor  wiftful  for  the  world's  gay  sunfhine  look ; — 
In  its  own  time  the  light  will  o'er  thee  sweep. 


FINE   CLOTHES. 

"  And  a  very  great  multitude  spread  their  garments  in  the  way  : 
others  cut  down  branches  from  the  trees,  and  strewed  them  in  the 
way." 

(For  Palm  Sunday.) 

LOOK  weftward,  penfive  little  one, 
How  the  bright  hues  together  run, 
Around  where  late  the  waning  sun 

Sank  in  his  evening  cloud. 
Or  eaftward  turn  thee,  and  admire 
How  linger  yet  the  mowers  of  fire, 
Deep  in  each  fold,  high  on  each  spire 
Of  yonder  mountain  proud. 

Thou  seeft  it  not :  an  envious  screen, 
A  fluttering  leaflet,  hangs  between 


uyra 


Innoccntiitm. 


Thee  and  that  fair  myfterious  scene, 

A  veil  too  near  thine  eye. 
One  finger's  breadth  at  hand  will  mar 
A  world  of  light  in  heaven  afar, 
A  mote  eclipse  a  glorious  ftar, 

An  eyelid  hide  the  iky. 

And  while  to  clear  the  view  we  ftay 
Lo !  the  bright  hour  hath  paff'd  away  ; 
A  twilight  haze,  all  dim  and  gray, 

Hath  quench'd  the  living  gleam. 
Remember  this,  thou  little  child, 
In  hours  of  prayer,  when  fancies  wild 
Betwixt  thee  and  thy  Saviour  mild 

Come  floating  on  life's  ftream. 

O  fhame,   O  grief,  when  earth's  rude  toys, 
An  opening  door,  a  breath,  a  noise, 
Drive  from  the  heart  th'  eternal  joys, 

Displace  the  Lord  of  Love  ! 
For  half  a  prayer  perchance  on  high 
We  soar,  and  heaven  seems  bright  and  nigh, 
But  ah  !  too  soon  frail  heart  and  eye 

Sink  down  and  earthward  rove. 

The  Sunday  garment  glittering  gay 
The  Sunday  heart  will  fteal  away. 
Then  hafte  thee,  ere  the  fond  glance  ftray, 
Thy  precious  robes  unfold, 


Lyra    Innocentium. 


And  caft  before  thy  Saviour's  feet : 
Him  spare  not  with  thy  beft  to  greet, 
Nor  dread  the  duft  of  Sion's  ftreet, 
'Tis  jewels  all  and  gold. 


SHYNESS. 

"  Moses  hid  his  face  ;  for  he  was  afraid  to  look  upon  God." 

TEAR  not  away  the  veil,  dear  friend, 
Nor  from  its  fhelter  rudely  rend 
The  heaven-protecled  flower  : 
It  waits  for  sun  and  fhower 
To  woo  it  kindly  forth  in  its  own  time, 
And   when    they   come,   untaught    will    know    its    hour    of 
prime. 

Blame  not  the  eye  that  from  thee  turns, 
The  cheek  that  in  a  moment  burns 
With  tingling  fire  so  bright, 
Feeling  thine  eager  fight, — 
The  lowly  drooping  brow,  the  ftammering  tongue, 
The    giddy    wavering    thought,    scarce    knowing    right    and 
wrong. 


Lyra  Innocentium.  203 


With  quivering  hands  that  closely  fold 
Over  his  downcaft  eyes,  behold 

The  Shepherd  on  the  Mount 

Adores  the  Living  Fount 
Of  pure  unwafting  fire  :  no  glance  he  deals, 
But  in  his  heart's  deep  joy  the  Dread  Eye  gazing  feels, — 

Feels  it,  and  gladlier  far  would  die 
Than  let  it  go.     There  will  he  lie 

Till  the  Dread  Voice  return, 

And  he  the  lore  may  learn 
Of  his  appointed  taik — bold  deeds  to  dare, 
High  myfteries  to  impart,  deep  penances  to  bear. 

Then  tear  we  not  the  veil  away, 
Nor  ruthless  tell  in  open  day 

The  tender  spirit's  dream. 

O  let  the  deepening  ftream, 
Might,  from  the  mountain-springs  in  filence  draw  ; 
O  mar  we  not  his  work,  who  trains  his  saints  in  awe. 


204  Lyra   Innocenthun. 


THE   GLEANERS. 

THE  Church  is  one  wide  harveft  field, 
Where  Time  and  Death  are  gathering  in 
Rich  bleflings  by  the  Almighty  owner  sealed 
For  spirits  meet  his  pardoning  word  to  win. 

We  are  as  children  :   here  and  there 

A  few  fallen  ears,  the  fheaves  among, 
We  glean,  where  beft  the  bounteous  Hand  may  spare, 

So  learning  for  his  perfect  ftore  to  long. 

Come,  little  ones — come  early  out, 

Come  joyous,  come  with  fteady  heart, 
Roam  not  to  seek  wild  flowers  the  field  about, 

Nor  yet  at  dreams  of  fancied  vipers  ftart. 

The  sun  of  Autumn  climbs  full  faft  : 
He  will  have  quaffed  each  drop  of  dew, 

Ere  half  the  fragrant,  healthy  lane  be  pafTed, 

The  lingerers,  they  will  find  scant  ears  and  few. 

Come,  quit  your  toys,  and  hafte  away. 

But  mark  :  ye  may  not  leave  behind 
Your  ftore  of  smiles,  your  gladsome  talk  and  gay, 

Your  pure  thoughts,  fafhioned  to  your  Matter's   mind. 


Lyra  Innocentium.  205 


Blithe  be  your  course,  yet  bear  in  heart 
The  lame  and  old,  and  help  them  on  ; 

Full  handfulls  drop  where  they  may  take  a  part, 
As  high  will  swell  your  heap  when  day  is  done. 

Yon  flumbering  infant  in  the  made, — 
Grudge  not  one  hour  on  him  to  wait 

While  others  glean.     The  work  with  Tinging  aid, 
With  ready  mirth  all  fharper  tones  abate. 

Sing  softly  in  your  heart  all  day 

Sweet  carols  to  the  harveft's  Lord, 
So  mall  ye  chase  those  evil  powers  away 

That  walk  at  noon — rude  gaze  and  wanton  word. 


EFFECT   OF    EXAMPLE. 

"  For  I  have  five  brethren  ;  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest 
they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment." 

FIVE  loving  souls,  each  one  as  mine, 
And  each  for  evermore  to  be  ! 
Each  deed  of  each  to  thrill 

For  good  or  ill 
Along  thine  awful  line, 
Eternity  ! 


206  Lyra  Innocentium. 


Who  for  such  burden  may  suffice  ? 

Who  bear  to  think,  how  scornful  tone, 
Or  word  or  glance  too  bold, 

Or  ill  dream  told, 

May  bar  from  Paradise 

Our  Mailer's  own  ? 

■ 

We  scatter  seeds  with  careless  hand, 

And  dream  we  ne'er  fhall  see  them  more 
But  for  a  thousand  years 

Their  fruit  appears, 
In  weeds  that  mar  the  land, 
Or  healthful  frore. 

The  deeds  we  do,  the  words  we  say, — 
Into  frill  air  they  seem  to  fleet, 
We  count  them  ever  pad  ; 

But  they   fhall  lair, 
In  the  dread  judgment  they 
And  we  fhall  meet ! 


I  charge 

thee  by  the  years  gone 

by, 

For 

the  love's  sake 

of  breth 

-en  dear, 

Keep  thou  the 

one  true 

way 

In  work  and 

play, 

Left  in  that  world  their 

cry 

Of  woe  thou 

hear  ! 

Lyra  Innocentlum.  207 


THE    WATERFALL. 

"  Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up,  a  spiritual  house.' 
"  I  will  make  thy  seed  as  the  dust  of  the  earth." 


"WHA; 


HAT  is  the  Church,  and  what  am  I  ? 
world,  to  one  poor  sandy  grain, 
A  wafte  of  sea  and  iky 
To  one  frail  drop  of  rain. 


"  What  boots  one  feeble  infant  tone 
To  the  full  choir  denied  or  given, 
Where  millions  round  the  Throne 
Are  chanting,  morn  and  even  ?  " 

Nay,  the  kind  Watchers  hearkening  there 
Diftinguifh  in  the  deep  of  song 
Each  little  wave,  each  air 
Upon  the  faltering  tongue. 

Each  half  note  in  the  great  Amen, 
Even  by  the  utterer's  self  unheard, 
They  ftore  :   O  fail  not  then 
To  bring  thy  lowly  word  : 

Spare  not  to  swell  the  bold  acclaim  ; 
So  in  the  future  battle-fhout, 
When  at  the  Saviour's  name 
The  Church  mail  call  thee  out, 


2o8  Lyra  Innocentium. 


No  doubtful  sound  thy  trump  fhall  pour. 
Remember,  when  in  earlier  days 
Thou  toil'dft  upon  the  floor 
Palace  or  tower  to  raise, 

No  mimic  ftone  but  found  a  place, 
And  glorious  to  the  builder  (hone 
The  pile  :   then  how  fhould  Grace 
One  living  gem  disown, 

One  pearly  mote,  one  diamond  small, 
One  sparkle  of  th'  unearthly  light  ? — 
Go  where  the  waters  fall 

Sheer  from  the  mountains  height ; 

Mark  how,  a  thousand  ftreams  in  one, 
One  in  a  thousand  on  they  fare, 
Now  flaming  to  the  sun, 
Now  ftill  as  beaft  in  lair. 

Now  round  the  rock,  now  mounting  o'er, 
In  lawless  dance  they  win  their  way, 
Still  seeming  more  and  more 
To  swell  as  we  survey. 

They  win  their  way,,  and  find  their  reft 
Together  in  their  ocean  home. 
From  Eaft  and  weary  Weft, 

From  North  and  South  they  come. 


Lyra  Innocentium,  209 


They  rufh  and  roar,  they  whirl  and  leap, 
Not  wilder  drives  the  wintry  ftorm  : 
Yet  a  ftrong  law  they  keep, 

Strange  powers  their  course  inform. 

Even  so  the  mighty  fky-born  ftream  : — 
Its  living  waters  from  above 
All  marr'd  and  broken  seem, 
No  union  and  no  love. 

Yet  in  dim  caves  they  haply  blend, 
In  dreams  of  mortals  unespied  : 
One  is  their  awful  End, 
One  their  unfailing  Guide. 

We  that  with  eye  too  daring  seek 

To  scan  their  course,  all  giddy  turn  : — 
Not  so  the  floweret  meek, 
Harebell  or  nodding  fern  : 

They  from  the  rocky  wall's  fteep  fide 
Lean  without  fear,  and  drink  the  spray  ; 
The  torrent's  foaming  pride 

But  keeps  them  green  and  gay. 

And  Chrift  hath  lowly  hearts,  that  reft 
Amid  fallen  Salem's  rufh  and  ftrife  ; 
The  pure,  peace-loving  breaft 
Even  here  can  find  her  life. 


Lyra   Innocentium. 


What  though  in  harm  and  angry  note 
The  broken  flood  chafe  high  ?  they  muse 
On  mifts  that  lightly  float, 
On  heaven-descending  dews, 

On  virgin  snows,  the  feeders  pure 

Of  the  bright  river's  mountain  springs  : — 
And  ftill  their  prayers  endure, 
And  Hope  sweet  answer  brings. 

If  of  the  Living  Cloud  they  be 
Baptismal  drops,  and  onward  press 
Toward  the  Living  Sea 
By  deeds  of  holiness, 

Then  to  the  Living  Waters  ftill 

(O  joy  with  trembling!)  they  pertain, 
Joined  by  some  hidden  rill, 
Low  in  Earth's  darkeft  vein. 

Scorn  not  one  drop :  of  drops  the  mower 
Is  made,  of  mowers  the  waterfall  : 
Of  children's  souls  the  Power 
Doomed  to  be  Queen  o'er  all. 


Lyra  Innocentium.  l\\ 


CHURCH    DECORATIONS. 

"  I  will  not  offer  burnt-offerings  without  cost.' 

WHY  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof 
With  foliage  rich  and  rare, 
With  crowns  and  flowerets  far  aloof, 
To  none  but  angels  fair  ? 

"Why  for  the  lofty  Altar  hide 
Thy  gems  and  gold  in  ftore  ? 

Why  spread  the  burnifhed  pall  so  wide 
Upon  the  chancel  floor  ?  " 

Nay,  rather  afk,  why  duteous  boy 

And  mother-loving  maid 
Scarce  in  their  filial  gifts  find  joy, 

If  nought  of  theirs  be  paid  : 

Why  hearts,  that  true  love-tokens  need 

For  brother  or  for  friend, 
Count  not  the  coft  with  careful  heed, 

But  hafte  their  all  to  spend  : 

Afk  why  of  old  the  favored  king 
Inquired  the  Temple's  price, 

Not  bearing  to  his  Lord  to  bring 
An  unbouo-ht  sacrifice. 


Lyra  Innocentium. 


Yea,  lowly  fall,  and  of  thy  Lord 

In  filence  afk  and  dread, 
Why  praised  He  Mary's  ointment,  poured 

Upon  his  Sacred   Head. 


ELIJAH    AT   SAREPTA. 

"  Make  me  thereof  a  little  cake  first,  and  bring  it  unto  me,  and 
after  make  for  thee  and  for  thy  son." 

LO,  caft  at  random  on  the  wild  sea  sand 
A  child  low  wailing  lies  : 
Around,  with  eye  forlorn  and  feeble  hand, 

Scarce  heeding  its  faint  cries, 
The  widowed  mother  in  the  wilderness 
Gathers  dry  boughs,  their  laft  sad  meal  to  bless. 

But  who  is  this  that  comes  with  mantle  rude 

And  vigil-wafted  air  ? 
Who  to  the  famifhed  cries,  "  Come  give  me  food, 

I  with  thy  child  would  fhare  ?  " 
She  bounteous  gives  :  but  hard  he  seems  of  heart, 
Who  of  such  scanty  ftore  would  crave  a  part. 

Haply  the  child  his  little  hand  holds  forth, 
That  all  his  own  may  be. — 


Lyra  Innocentium.  213 


Nay,  fimple  one,  thy  mother's  faith  is  worth 

Healing  and  life  to  thee. 
That  handful  given,  for  years  insures  thee  bread 
That  drop  of  oil  mail  raise  thee  from  the  dead. 

For  in  yon  haggard  form  He  begs  unseen, 

To  whom   for  life  we  kneel  : 
One  little  cake  He  afks  with  lowly  mien, 

Who  blefles  every  meal. 
Lavifh  for  Him,  ye  poor,  your  children's  ftore 
So  fhall  your  cruise  for  many  a  day  run  o'er. 


THE   EMPTY   CHURCH. 

"  The  blind  and  the  lame  came  to  him  in  the  temple." 

WHY  fhould  we  grudge  the  hour  and  house  of  prayer 
To  Chrift's  own  blind  and  lame, 
Who  come  to  meet  Him  there? 
Better,  be  sure,  his  altar-flame 
Should  glow  in  one  dim  wavering  spark, 
Than  quite  die  down,  and  leave  his  temple  drear  and  dark. 

"  But  in  our  Psalm  their  choral  answers  fail." 

Nay,  but  the  heart  may  speak, 

And  to  the  holy  tale 
Respond  aright  in  filence  meek. 


214  Lyra  Innocentium. 


And  well  we  know,  bright  angel  throngs 
Are  by,  to  swell  those  whisperings  into  warbled  songs. 

What  if  the  world  our  two  or  three  despise  ? 

They  in  his  name  are  here, 

To  whom  in  suppliant  guise 
Of  old  the  blind  and  lame  drew  near. 
Befide  his  royal  courts  they  wait 
And  afk  his  healing  hand  ;  we  dare  not  close  the  gate. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


Miscellaneous. 

217 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

— ©©©— 

VIGILS. 

TT  is  the  fall  of  eve  ; 
-■-    And  the  long  tapers  now  we  light 
And  watch  :  for  we  believe 
Our  Lord  may  come  at  night. 
Adefte  Fideles. 

An  hour — and  it  is  Seven, 
And  faft  away  the  evening  rolls  : 

O,  it  is  dark  in  heaven, 
But  light  within  our  souls. 

Veni  Creator  Spiritus  ! 

Hark!  the  old  bell  ftrikes  Eight! 
And  ftill  we  watch  with  heart  and  ear, 

For  as  the  hour  grows  late, 
The  Day-ftar  may  be  near. 
Jubilate  Deo  ! 

Hark  !  it  is  knelling  Nine ! 
But  faithful  eyes  grow  never  dim  ; 

2 1 8                                   Miscellaneous . 

And  ftill  our  tapers  fhine, 
And  ftill  ascends  our  hymn. 
Cum  Angelis  ! 

The  watchman  crieth  Ten  ! 
My  soul,  be  watching  for  the  Light, 

For  when  he  comes  again, 
'Tis  as  the  thief  at  night. 
Nisi  Dominus  ! 

By  the  old  bell — Eleven  ! 
Now  trim  thy  lamps,  and  ready  ftand  ; 

The  world  to  fleep  is  given, 
But  Jesus  is  at  hand. 
De  Profundis! 

At  midnight — is  a  cry ! 
Is  it  the  bridegroom  draweth  near  ? 

Come  quickly,  Lord,  for  I 
Have  long'd  thy  voice  to  hear! 
Kyrie  Eleison  ! 

Could  ye  not  watch  One  hour  ? 
Be  ready  :  or  the  bridal  train 

And  bridegroom,  with  his  dower, 
May  sweep  along  in  vain. 
Miserere  mei  ! 

By  the  old  fteeple — Two  ! 
And  now  I  know  the  day  is  near  ! 

Miscellaneous .  219 


Watch — for  his  word  is  true, 
And  Jesus  may  appear  ! 
Dies  Irae  ! 

Three — by  the  drowsy  chime ! 
And  joy  is  nearer  than  at  firft. 

O,  let  us  watch  the  time 
When  the  firft  light  fhall  burft ! 
Sursum  Corda. 

Four — and  a  ftreak  of  day  ! 
At  the  cock-crowing  He  may  come ; 

And  ftill  to  all  I  say, 
Watch — and  with  awe  be  dumb. 
Fili  David! 

Five ! — and  the  tapers  now 
In  rosy  morning  dimly  burn  ! 

Stand,  and  be  girded  thou, 
Thy  Lord  will  yet  return  ! 
Veni  Jesu! 

Hark  !  tis  the  Matin  call  ! 
Oh,  when  our  Lord  fhall  come  again 

At  prime  or  even-fall, 
Bleft  are  the  wakeful  men  ! 
Nunc  dimittis. 

A.   C.   Coxe. 

Note. — The  Latin  lines,  at  the  end  of  every  stanza,  are  the  titles 
of  chaunts  appropriate   to   the  several   hours.     Adeste :    Hither  ye 


220  Miscellaneous. 


faithful. — Vent  Creator :  Come  Holy  Ghost. — Jubilate  Deo  :  The 
iooth  Psalm. — Cum  Angelis:  Therefore  with  angels  and  archangels, 
&c. — Nisi  Dominus :  Unless  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  Watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain. — De  Profundis :  Out  of  the  depths,  Ps.  130. — 
Kyrie  Eleison:  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us. — The  Miserere:  Ps.  57. — 
Dies  Irae  :  The  day  of  wrath. — Sursum  Corda  :  Lift  up  your  hearts. 
— Fili  David :  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  us. — Veni  Jesu  : 
Come  Lord  Jesus — come  quickly. — Nunc  Dimittis  :  Now  Lord  let- 
test  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  Luke  2.   29. 


PENITENCE. 

DEEPEN  the  wounds  thy  hands  have  made 
In  this  weak,  helpless  soul, 
Till  mercy,  with  its  balmy  aid, 
Descend  to  make  me  whole. 

I  see  the  exceeding  broad  command, 

Which  all  contains  in  one  : 
Enlarge  my  heart  to  underftand 

The  myftery  unknown. 

O  that,  with  all  thy  saints,  I  might 

By  sweet  experience  prove 
What  is  the  length,  and   breadth,   and   height, 

And  depth  of  perfect  love  ! 

C.  ITeslty. 


Miscellaneous. 


GOING   TO    CHRIST. 

"  Him   that  cometh    unto   me,    I   will    in    no  wise  cast  out. 
John  6:  37. 

JUST  as  I  am  !  without  one  plea 
But  that  thy  blood  was  fhed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bid'ft  me  come  to  Thee, — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am, — and  waiting  not 

To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 

To  Thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot — 

Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am — though  tofTed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt — 
Fightino-s  within,  and  fears  without — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am — poor,  wretched,  blind, 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need,  in  Thee  to  find, — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am — Thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve, 
Because  thy  promise  I  believe — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 


Miscellaneous. 


Juft  as  I  am — thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down  ; 
Now  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 


LOVE   OF   GOD. 

THOU  Grace  divine,  encircling  all 
A  soundless,  fhoreless  sea  ! 
Wherein  at  laft,  our  souls  fhall  fall, 
O  Love  of  God  mod  free  ! 

When  over  dizzy  fteeps  we  go, 
One  soft  hand  blinds  our  eyes, 

The  other  leads  us  safe  and  flow, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  wise ! 

And  though  we  turn  us  from  thy  face, 
And  wander  wide  and  long, 

Thou  hold'ft  us  ftill  in  thine  embrace, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  ftrong! 

The  saddened  heart,  the  reftless  soul 
The  toilworn  frame  and  mind, 

Alike  confess  thy  sweet  control, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  kind  ! 


Miscellaneous.  223 


But  not  alone  thy  care  we  claim, 
Our  wayward  steps  to  win  : 

We  know  thee  by  a  dearer  name, 
O  Love  of  God  within  ! 

And  filled  and  quickened  by  thy  breath, 
Our  souls  are  ftrong  and  free 

To  rise  o'er  fin,  and  fear,  and  death, 
O  Love  of  God,  to  thee  ! 


EVENING   PRAYER. 


I 


COME  to  Thee  to-night, 
In  my  lone  closet  where  no  eye  can  see 
And  dare  to  crave  an  interview  with  Thee, 
Father  of  love  and  light. 


Softly  the  moonbeams  mine 
On  the  ftill  branches  of  the  fhadowy  trees, 
While  all  sweet  sounds  of  evening  on  the  breeze 

Steal  through  the  {lumbering  vine. 

Thou  gav'ft  the  calm  repose 
That  rests  on  all ;  the  air,  the  birds,  the  flower, 
The  human  spirit  in  its  weary  hour 

Now  at  the  bright  day's  close. 


224  Miscellaneous. 


'Tis  Nature's  time  for  prayer  ; 
The  filent  praises  of  the  glorious  iky, 
And  the  earth's  orisons  profound  and  high 

To  Heaven  their  breathings  bear. 

With  them  my  soul  would  bend 
In  humble  reverence  at  thy  Holy  Throne, 
Trufting  the  merits  of  thy  Son  alone 

Thy  sceptre  to  extend. 

If  I  this  day  have  ftriven 
With  thy  bleft  spirit,  or  have  bowed  the  knee 
To  aught  of  earth  in  weak  idolatry 

I  pray  to  be  forgiven. 

If  in  my  heart  has  been 
An  unforgiving  thought,  or  word,  or  look 
Though  deep  the  malice  which  I  scarce  could  brook 

Wafh  me  from  the  dark  fin. 

If  I  have  turned  away 
From  grief  or  suffering  which  I  might  relieve, 
Careless  the  cup  of  water  e'en  to  give 

Forgive  me  Lord  I  pray. 

And  teach  me  how  to  feel 
My  finful  wanderings  with  a  deeper  smart ; 
And  more  of  mercy  and  of  grace  impart 

My  finfulness  to  heal. 


Miscellaneous.  21$ 


Father  !   my  soul  would  be 
Pure  as  the  drops  of  eve's  unsullied  dew — 
And  as  the  ftars  whose  nightly  course  is  true — 

So  would  I  be  to  Thee. 

Not  for  myself  alone 
Would  I  these  bleflings  of  thy  love  implore  ; 
But  for  each  penitent  the  wide  earth  o'er 

Whom  Thou  haft  called  thine  own. 

And  for  my  heart's  beft  friends, 
Whose  fteadfaft  kindness  o'er  my  painful  years 
Has  watched  to  soothe  affliction's  griefs  and  tears, 

My  warmeft  prayer  ascends. 

Should  o'er  their  path  decline 
The  light  of  gladness,  or  of  hope,  or  health, 
Be  Thou  their  solace,  and  their  joy,  and  wealth, 

As  they  have  long  been  mine. 

And  now,  O  Father,  take 
The  heart  I  caft  with  humble  faith  on  Thee, 
And  cleanse  its  depths  from  each  impurity, 

For  my  Redeemer's  sake. 

Anonymous. 


226  Miscellaneous. 


EVENING   HYMN. 

THE  night  is  come  ;  like  to  the  day, 
Depart  not  thou,  great  God,  away. 
Let  not  my  fins  black  as  the  night, 
Eclipse  the  luftre  of  thy  light. 
Keep  ftill  in  my  horizon  :   for  to  me 
The  sun  makes  not  the  day,  but  Thee. 
Thou  whose  nature  cannot  fleep, 
On  my  temples  sentry  keep  : 
Guard  me  'gainft  those  watchful  foes, 
Whose  eyes  are  open  while  mine  close. 
Let  no  dreams  my  head  infeft 
But  such  as  Jacob's  temples  bleft. 
Whilft  I  do  reft,  my  soul  advance  ; 
Make  my  fleep  a  holy  trance  : 
That  I  may,  my  reft  being  wrought, 
Awake  into  some  holy  thought. 
And  with  as  active  vigor  run 
My  course,  as  doth  the  nimble  sun. 
Sleep  is  a  death,  O  make  me  try, 
By  fleeping,  what  it  is  to  die  : 
And  as  gently  lay  my  head 
On  my  grave  as  now  my  bed. 
Howc'cr  I  reft,  great  God,  let  me 
Awake  again   at   Lift   with   Thee. 


Miscellaneous. 


227 


And  thus  aflur'd,  behold  I  lie 

Securely,  or  to  wake  or  die. 

These  are   my  drowsy  days  ;  in  vain 

I  do  now  wake  to  fleep  again  : 

O  come  that  hour,  when  I  fhall  never 

Sleep  thus  again,  but  wake  for  ever. 

Sir   Thomas  Browne. 


PRAYER. 

T?  RE  the  morning's  busy  ray 

■*— '  Call  you  to  your  work  away  ; 

Ere  the  filent  evening  close 

Your  wearied  eyes  in  sweet  repose  ; 

To  lift  your  heart  and  voice  in  prayer 

Be  your  first  and  latest  care. 

He,  to  whom  the  prayer  is  due, 

From  heaven  his  throne  fhall  smile  on  you  ; 

Angels  sent  by  Him  fhall  tend, 

Your  daily  labor  to  befriend, 

And  their  nightly  vigils  keep 

To  guard  you  in  the  hour  of  fleep. 

Bijbop  Mant. 


228  Miscellaneous . 


OH  Lord  !  how  happy  fhould  we  be, 
If  we  could  leave  our  cares  to  Thee, 
If  we  from  self  could  reft  : 
And  feel  at  heart  that  One  above, 
In  perfect  wisdom,  perfect  love 
Is  working,  for  the  beft. 

For  when  we  kneel  and  caft  our  care 
Upon  our  God  in  humble  prayer, 

With  ftrengthened  souls  we  rise. 
Sure  that  our  Father  who  is  nigh 
To  hear  the  ravens  when  they  cry 

Will  hear  his  children's  cries. 

Oh  !  would  these  reftless  hearts  of  ours 
The  leffon  learn  from  birds  and  flowers 

And  learn  from  self  to  cease ; 
Leave  all  things  to  our  Father's  will, 
And  in  his  mercy  trufting  ftill 

Find  in  each  trial,  peace. 


Anonymous. 


Miscellaneous.  229 


MY   TIMES   ARE   IN   THY   HAND. 

FATHER,  I  know  that  all  my  life 
Is  portioned  out  for  me, 
And  the  changes  that  will  surely  come, 

I  do  not  fear  to  see  ; 
But  I  afk  Thee  for  a  present  mind 
Intent  on  pleafing  Thee. 

I  afk  Thee  for  a  thoughtful  love, 
Through  conftant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles, 
And  to  wipe  the  weeping  eyes  ; 

And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself, 
To  sooth  and  sympathize. 

I  would  not  have  the  reftless  will 

That  hurries  to  and  fro, 
Seeking  for  some  great  thing  to  do, 

Or  secret  thing  to  know ; 
I  would  be  treated  as  a  child, 

And  guided  where  I  go. 

Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  eftate, 
I  have  a  fellowfhip  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate  ; 


230  Miscellaneous. 


And  a  work  of  lowly  love  to  do, 
For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 

So  I  afk  Thee  for  the  daily  ftrength, 

To  none  that  aflc  denied. 
And  a  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life, 

While  keeping  at  thy  fide, 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space, 

If  Thou  be  glorified. 

And  if  some  things  I  do  not  afk 

In   my  cup  of  bleiling  be, 
I  would  have  my  spirit  fill'd  the  more 

With  grateful  love  to  Thee — 
And  careful,  less  to  serve  Thee  much, 

Than  to  please  Thee  perfectly. 

There  are  briars  besetting  every  path, 
Which  call  for  patient  care  ; 

There  is  a  cross  in  every  lot, 
And  an  earned  need  for  prayer  ; 

But  a  lowly  heart  that  leans  on  Thee 
Is  happy  anywhere. 

In  a  service  which  thy  love  appoints, 
There  are  no  bonds  for  me  ; 

For  my  secret  heart  is  taught  "the  truth 
That  makes  thy   children   "  free  ;  " 

And  a  life  of  self-renouncing  love, 
Is  a  life  of  liberty. 


Miscellaneous .  231 


IN  having  all  things  and  not  Thee,  what  have  I  ? 
Not  having  Thee,  what  have  my  labors  got  ? 
Let  me  enjoy  but  Thee,  what  further  crave  I  ? 

And  having  Thee  alone  what  have  I  not  ? 
I  wifh  not  sea  nor  land  ;  nor  would  I  be 
PofTefled  of  heaven,  heaven  unpofTefled   of  Thee. 

Great  God  !   Thou  art  the  flowing  spring  of  light ; 

Enrich  mine  eyes  with  thy  refulgent  ray  ; 
Thou  art  my  path  ;  direct  my  fteps  aright, 

I  have  no  other  light,  no  other  way  ; 
I'll  truft  my  God,  and  Him  alone  pursue  : 
His  law  fhall  be  my  path,  his  heavenly  light  my  clue. 

$>uarks. 


EXCELLENCY   OF   CHRIST. 

HE  is  a  path,  if  any  be  mifled  ; 
He  is  a  robe,  if  any  naked  be  ; 
If  any  chance  to  hunger,   He  is  bread  ; 
If  any  be  a  bondman,  He  is  free  ; 
If  any  be  but  weak,  how  ftrong  is   He  ! 
To  dead  men  life  He  is,  to  fick  men  health  ; 
To  blind  men  fight,  and  to  the  needy  wealth  ; 
A  pleasure  without  loss,  a  treasure  without  ftealth. 

Giles  Fletcher. 


232  Miscellaneous. 


T  TARK  !  my  soul,  how  every  thing 
•*•  -*-   Strives  to  serve  our  beauteous  King 
Each  a  double  tribute  pays, 
Sings  its  part,  and  then  obeys. 

Nature's  chief  and  sweetefl:  choir, 
Him  with  cheerful  notes  admire  ; 
Chanting  every  day  their  lauds, 
While  the  grove  their  song  applauds. 

Though  their  voices  lower  be, 
Streams  have  too  their  melody  ; 
Night  and  day  they  warbling  run, 
Never  pause,  but  ftill  fing  on. 

All  the  flowers  that  gild  the  spring, 
Hither  their  ftill  mufic  bring  ; 
If  heaven  bless  them,  thankful,  they 
Smell  more  sweet,  and  look  more  gay. 

Only  we  can  scarce  afford, 
This  fhort  office  to  our  Lord  ; 
We,  on  whom  his  bounty  flows, 
All  things  gives,  and  nothing  owes. 

Wake,  for  fhame,  my  flothful  heart, 
Wake,  and  gladly  fing  thy  part  : 


Miscellaneous.  233 


Learn  of  birds  and  springs  and  flowers, 
How  to  use  thy  noble  powers. 

Call  all  nature  to  thy  aid, 
Since  'twas  He  all  nature  made  ; 
Join  in  one  eternal  song 
Who  to  one  God  all  belong. 


CALM,   PEACE,   AND   LIGHT. 

THERE  is  a  Calm  the  Poor  in  Spirit  know, 
That  softens  sorrow,  and  that  sweetens  woe  ; 
There  is  a  Peace  that  dwells  within  the  breafr, 
When  all  without  is  ftormy  and  diftreft  ; 
There  is  a  Light  that  gilds  the  darkeft  hour, 
When  dangers  thicken  and  when  tempefts  lower, 
That  calm,  to  faith  and  hope  and  love  is  given, 
That  peace  remains  when  all  befide  is  riven, 
That  light  fhines  down  to  man  direcl:  from  Heaven. 


234  Miscellaneous. 


SONNET. 

"O  speak  good  of  the  Lord,  all  ye  works  of  his,  in  all  places  of  his 
dominions." — Psalm  103  :  22. 

ANSWER,  with  all  thy  pulses,  throb  and  speak, 
Thou  tender,  palpitating  heart  of  God  ! 
Through  earth,  through  air,  and  caves  of  ocean  broad, 
All  thronged  with  myriad  beings,  ftrong  or  weak 
In  terror,  or  deep  love  !  Flufh  on  the  cheek 
Of  morn,  breathe  sweet  from  evening's  dewy  sod  ! 
Tremble  in  mufic,  'mid  the  choral  ode 
That  from  the  soft  vale  to  the  mountain  peak 
Whispers  or  thunders  ! — Art  Thou  cold,  or  dead, 
Or  vengeful? — Hufh  !   a  holy  filence  reigns: 
That  our  own  heart,  (tilling  our  throbbing  veins, 
And  only  with  its  own  aflurance  fed, 
May  be  itself  thy  answer  and  abode, 
O  tender,  palpitating  heart  of  God  ! 

Cbauncy  Hare    Toivnjhend. 


Miscellaneous.  235 


SONNET. 

"  All  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God." — 
Romans  8  :   28. 

OH,  what  a  load  of  ftruggle   and  diftress 
Falls  off  before  the  Cross  !  The  feverifh  care  ; 
The  wifh  that  we  were  other  than  we  are  ; 
The  fick  regrets  ;  the  yearnings  numberless  ; 
The  thought,  "  this  might  have  been,"  so  apt  to  press 
On  the  reluctant  soul  ;  even  paft  despair, 
Paft  fin  itself, — all — all  is  turned  to  fair 
Ay,  to  a  scheme  of  ordered  happiness, 
So  soon  as  we  love  God,  or  rather  know 
That  God  loves  us  !   .   .   .   Accepting  the  great  pledge 
Of  his  concern  for  all  our  wants  and  woe, 
We   cease  to  tremble  upon  danger's  edge  ; 
While  varying  troubles  form  and  burft  anew, 
Safe  in  a  Father's  arms  we  smile  as  infants  do  ! 

Cbauncy  Hare   Town/hend. 


<£8%3 


236  Miscellaneous. 


SONNET. 
«  What  is  truth  ?  "—5/.  Jcbn  18  :  38. 

OH,  how  we  pine  for  truth !  for  something  more 
Than  hulks  of  learning !    How  did  ancient  Greece 
Hang  on  the  virtuous  lips  of  Socrates, 
Turning  from  words  more  sounding  to  adore 
The  wisdom  that  sent  souls  to  their  own  ftore 
For  knowledge.     So  let  us  our  hearts  release  ! 
'Tis  time  the  jargon  of  the  schools  mould  cease — 
Errors  that  rot  Theology's  deep  core, 
Lying  at  the  base  of  things.      Down,  down  muft  fall 
The  glittering  edifice,  cemented  much 
With  blood,  yet  baseless.     At  Truth's  fimple  touch 

All  the  vain  fabric  will  be  mattered  all ! 

But  not  the  Bible  !    Nature  there  is  ftored, 
And  God !    Eternal  is  the  Saviour's  Word ! 

Chauncy  Hare    Townjhend. 


Miscellaneous.  237 


PRAYER. 

LORD,  what  a  change  within  us  one  fhort  hour 
Spent  in  thy  presence  will  avail  to  make  ! 

What  heavy  burdens  from  our  bosoms  take ! 
What  parched  grounds  refrefh,  as  with  a  mower ! 
We  kneel,  and  all  around  us  seems  to  lower  ; 

We  rise,  and  all,  the  diftant  and  the  near, 

Stands  forth  in  sunny  outline,  brave  and  clear  ; 
We  kneel,  how  weak  !  we  rise,  how  full  of  power  ! 
Why,  therefore,  mould  we  do  ourselves  this  wrong, 
Or  others — that  we  are  not  always  ftrong — 
That  we  are  ever  overborne  with  care — 

That  we  mould  ever  weak  or  heartless  be, 
Anxious  or  troubled — when  with  us  is  prayer, 

And  joy,  and  ftrength,  and  courage  are  with   Thee? 

Trench. 


238  Miscellaneous. 


ACCESS   TO   GOD    EVERY    WHERE. 

THEY  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace, 
Find  that  throne  in  every  place  ; 
If  we  live  a  life  of  prayer, 
God  is  present  every  where. 

In  our  fickness  or  our  health, 
In  our  want  or  in  our  wealth, 
If  we  look  to  God  in  prayer- 
God  is  present  every  where. 

When  our  earthly  comforts  fail, 
When  the  foes  of  life  prevail, 
'Tis  the  time  for  earneft  prayer  j— 
God  is  present  every  where. 

Then,  my  soul,  in  every  frrait 
To  thy  Father  come  and  wait ; 
He  will  answer  every  prayer 
God  is  present  every  where. 

Ano 


Miscellaneous.  239 


PERFECT   IN   LOVE. 

"Whoso  feareth  is  not  made  perfect  in  love.     Perfect  love  cafteth 
out  fear." — 1  John  4:18. 

T)ERFECT  in  love!" — Lord,  can  it  be, 


A      Amidft  this  ftate  of  doubt  and  fi 


m  r 


While  foes  so  thick  without,  I  see, 
With  weakness,  pain,  disease  within  : 
Can  perfect  love  inhabit  here, 
And  ftrong  in  faith,  extinguifh  fear  ? 

O,  Lord  !   amidft  this  mental  night, 

Amidft  the  clouds  of  dark  dismay, 
Arise  !  arise  !   fried  forth  thy  light, 
And   kindle  love's   meridian  day. 
My  Saviour  God  to  me  appear, 
So  love  fhall  triumph  over  fear. 


240  Miscellaneous. 


THE  CHILDREN'S  DESIRE. 

I   THINK  when  I  read  the  sweet  ftory  of  old, 
How  when  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
He  once  called  little  children  as  lambs  to  his  fold — 

I  mould  like  to  have  been  with  them  then. 
I  with  that  his  hands  had  been  placed  on  my  head 

That  his  arms  had  been  thrown  around  me  ; 
And  that  I  might  have  seen  his  kind  look,  when  He  said, 
"  Let  the  little  ones  come  unto  me." 

Yet  ftill  to  his  footftool  in  faith  I  may  go, 

And  there  afk  for  a  fhare  of  his  love  ; 
And  I  know  if  I  earneftly  seek  Him  below, 

I  fhall  see  Him  and  hear  Him  above — 
In  that  beautiful  place,   He  is  gone  to  prepare, 

For  all  those  who  are  warned  and  forgiven  ; 
And  many  dear  children  are  gathering  there, 

"  For  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Anonymous. 


Miscellaneous. 


241 


LIFE. 

IT  is  not  life  upon  thy  gifts  to  live, 
But,  to  grow  fixed  with  deeper  roots  in  Thee  ; 
And  when  the  sun  and  fhower  their  bounties  give, 
To  send  out  thick-leaved  limbs  ;  a  fruitful  tree, 
Whose  green  head  meets  the  eye  for  many  a  mile, 
Whose  moff-grown  arms  their  rigid  branches  rear, 
And  full-faced  fruits  their  blufhing  welcome  smile 
As  to  its  goodly  fhade  our  feet  draw  near ; 
Who  taftes  its  gifts  mall  never  hunger  more, 
For  tis  the  Father  spreads  the  pure  repaft, 
Who,  while  we  eat,  renews  the  ready  ftore, 
Which  at  his  bounteous  board  muft  ever  laft  ; 
For  none  the  bridegroom's  supper  (hall  attend, 
Who  will  not  hear  and  make  his  word  their  friend. 

Jones  Very. 


242  Miscellaneous. 


FOR   DIVINE   STRENGTH. 

FATHER,  in  thy  myfterious  presence  kneeling, 
Fain  would  our  souls  feel  all  thy  kindling  love, 
For  we  are  weak,  and  need  some  deep  revealing 
Of  Truft,  and  Strength,  and  Calmness,  from  above. 

Lord,  we  have  wandered  forth  through  doubt  and  sorrow, 
And  Thou  haft  made  each  ftep  an  onward  one  ; 

And  we  will  ever  truft  each  unknown  morrow, — 
Thou  wilt  suftain  us  till  its  work  is  done. 

In  the  heart's  depths,  a  peace  serene  and  holy 
Abides,  and  when  pain  seems  to  have  her  will, 

Or  we  despair, — O  may  that  peace  rise  flowly, 
Stronger  than  agony,  and  we  be  ftill. 

Now,  Father,  now,  in  thy  dear  presence  kneeling, 
Our  spirits  yearn  to  feel  thy  kindling  love  : 

Now  make  us  ftrong,  we  need  thy  deep  revealing 
Of  Truft,  and  Strength,  and  Calmness,  from  above. 

S.  Johnson. 


Miscellaneous. 


243 


THE   CONFLICT   OF   LIFE. 

ONWARD,  Chriftian,  though  the  region 
Where  thou  art  be  drear  and  lone  : 
God  hath  set  a  guardian  legion 
Very  near  thee, — press  thou  on  ! 


Liften,  Chriftian,  their  Hosanna 

Rolleth  o'er  thee, — "  God  is  Love.' 

Write  upon  thy  red-cross  banner, 
"  Upward  ever, — heaven's  above." 

By  the  thorn-road,  and  none  other, 
Is  the  mount  of  vifion  won  ; 

Tread  it  without  fhrinking,  brother! 
Jesus  trod  it, — press  thou  on  ! 


By  thy  truftful,  calm  endeavor, 
Guiding,  cheering,  like  the  sun, 

Earth-bound  hearts  thou  fhalt  deliver 
O,  for  their  sake,  press  thou  on ! 


Be  this  world  the  wiser,  ftronger, 
For  thy  life  of  pain  and  peace  ; 

While  it  needs  thee,  O  no  longer 
Pray  thou  for  thy  quick  release  ; 


244  Miscellaneous. 


Pray  thou,  Chriftian,  daily,  rather, 

That  thou  be  a  faithful  son  ; 
By  the  prayer  of  Jesus, — "  Father, 

Not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done  ! " 

S.   Johnson. 


SPIRITUAL   NEEDS. 

I  WANT  the  spirit  of  power  within, 
Of  love,  and  of  a  healthful  mind  : 
Of  power  to  conquer  every  fin, 
Of  love  to  God  and  all  mankind  ; 
Of  health  that  pain  and  death  defies, 
Moft  vigorous  when  the  body  dies. 

O,  that  the  Comforter  would  come, 
Nor  vifit  as  a  tranfient  gueft, 
But  fix  in  me  his  conftant  home, 
And  keep  poffeffion  of  my  breaft  ; 
And  make  my  soul  his  loved  abode, 
The  temple  of  indwelling  God  ! 

C.   Wesley. 


Miscellaneous. 


245 


JESUS,  the  only  thought  of  thee 
With  sweetness  fills  my  breaft, 
But  sweeter  far  it  is  to  see, 
And  on  thy  beauty  feaft. 
No  sound,  no  harmony  so  gay, 

Can  art  of  mufic  frame, 
No  thought  can  reach,  no  words  can  say 
The  sweets  of  thy  blefl:  name. 

Jesus,  our  hope  when  we  repent, 

Sweet  source  of  all  our  grace ; 
Sole  comfort  in  our  banifhment 

O  what  when  face  to  face  ! 
Jesus  !  that  name  inspires  my  mind 

With  springs  of  life  and  light ; 
More  than  I  afk  in  thee  I  find, 

And  languifh  in  delight. 

No  art  nor  eloquence  of  man 

Can  tell  the  joys  of  love  j 
Spirits  alone  can  underftand 

What  they  in  Jesus  prove. 
Thee  then  I'll  seek,  retired  apart, 

From  world  and  bufiness  free 
When  these  fhall  knock,  I'll  fhut  my  heart, 

And  keep  it  all  for  thee. 


246  Miscellaneous. 


Before  the  morning  light  I'll  come, 

With  Magdalen,  to  find, 
In  fighs  and  tears,  my  Jesus'  tomb, 

And  there  refrefli  my  mind. 
My  tears   upon  his  grave  (hall  flow, 

My  fighs  the  garden  fill, 
Then  at  his  feet  myself  I'll  throw, 

And  there  I'll  seek  his  will. 


OTHOU  whose  wise  paternal  Love 
Hath  caft  my  active  vigor  down, 
Thy  choice  I  thankfully  approve, 

And  proftrate  at  thy  gracious  throne 
I   offer  up  my  life's  remains, 

I  choose  the  ftate  my  God  ordains. 

Caft  as  a  broken  vefTel  by, 

Thy  will  I  can  no  longer  do, 
But  while  a  daily  death  I  die, 

Thy  power  I   can  in  weakness  fhow 
My  patience  fhall  thy  glory  raise 

My  ftedfaft  woe  proclaim  thy  praise. 

Wtsley. 


Miscellaneous. 


247 


ADORATION. 

I  LOVE  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine, 
For  I  have  none  to  give  ; 
I  love  thee,  Lord  ;  but  all  the  love  is  thine, 

For  by  thy  life  I  live. 
I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be 
Emptied,  and  loft,  and  swallowed  up  in  thee. 

Thou,  Lord,  alone,  art  all  thy  children  need, 

And  there  is  none  befide  ; 
From  Thee  the  ftreams  of  bleffedness  proceed, 

In  Thee  the  bleft  abide, — 
Fountain  of  life,  and  all-abounding  grace, 
Our  source,  our  centre,  and  our  dwelling-place. 

Madame  Guyon. 


FRIEND    SORROW. 


DO  not  cheat  thy  heart,  and  tell  her 
"  Grief  will  pass  away — 
"  Hope  for  fairer  times  in  future, 
"And  forget  to-day." 


248  Miscellaneous. 


Tell  her,  if  you  will,  that  Sorrow 

Need  not  come  in  vain — 
Tell  her,  that  the  leflbn  taught  her 

Far  outweighs  the  pain. 

Cheat  her  not  with  the  old  comfort 

"  Soon  fhe  will  forget." 
Bitter  truth,  alas  !   but  matter 

Rather  for  regret. 
Bid  her  not  seek  other  pleasures, 

Turn  to  other  things. 
Rather,  nurse  her  caged  Sorrow 

Till  the  captive  fings. 

Rather  bid  her  go  forth  bravely, 

And  the  ftranger  greet  ; 
Not  as  foe,  with  fhield  and  buckler, 

But  as  dear  friends  meet. 
Bid  her  with  a  ftrong  clasp  hold  her 

By  the  duflcy  wings  : 
And  fhe'll  whisper  low  and  gently, 

Bleflings  that  me  brings. 

Household  Words. 


Miscellaneous.  249 


LABOR  AND  REST. 

Two  hands  upon  the  bread,  and  labor  is  part." — Russian  Proverb. 

"  >T~^WO  hands  upon  the  breaft, 

J-    And  labor's  done  : 
Two  pale  feet  crofted  in  reft — 

The  race  is  won  : 
Two  eyes  with  coin-weights  fhut, 

And  all  tears  cease  : 
Two  lips  where  grief  is  mute 
And  wrath  at  peace." 
So  pray  we  oftentimes,  mourning  our  lot ; 
God  in  his  kindness  answereth  not. 

"  Two  hands  to  work  addreft 

Aye  for  his  praise  : 
Two  feet  that  never  reft 

Walking  his  ways  : 
Two  eyes  that  look  above 
Still,  through  all  tears  : 
Two  lips  that  breathe  but  love, 
Nevermore  fears." 
So  cry  we  afterwards,  low  at  our  knees  : 
Pardon  those  erring  prayers !    Father,  hear  these  ! 


250  Miscellaneous. 


GOD    IS   LOVE. 

EARTH,  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers, 
Air,  with  all  its  beams  and  fhowers, 
All  around,  and  all  above, 
Hath  this  record,  "  God  is  love." 

Sounds  among  the  vales  and  hills, 
In  the  woods,  and  by  the  rills, 
All  these  songs,  beneath,  above, 
Have  one  burthen,  "  God  is  love." 

All  the  charities  that  ftart 
From  the  fountains  of  the  heart, 
These  are  voices  from  above, 
Sweetly  whispering,  "God  is  love." 

Earth  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers, 
Air,  with  all  its  beams  and  fhowers, 
All  are  voices  from  above, 
Loudly  sounding,  "  God  is  love." 


Miscellaneous. 


25 


COULD'ST   THOU   NOT   WATCH   ONE   HOUR? 

THY  night  is  dark — behold  the  fhade  was  deeper 
In  the  old  garden  of  Gethsemane, 
When  that  calm  voice  awoke  the  weary  fleeper, 

— Could'ft  thou  not  watch  one  hour  alone  with  me  ? 

O,  thou  so  weary  of  thy  self-denials, 

And  so  impatient  of  thy  little  cross, 
Is  it  so  hard  to  bear  thy  daily  trials, 

To  count  all  earthly  things  a  gainful  loss  ? 

What  if  thou  always  suffer  tribulation, 

And  if  thy  Chriftian  warfare  never  cease  ; 

The  gaining  of  the  quiet  habitation, 
Shall  gather  thee  to  everlafting  peace. 

But  here  we  all  muft  suffer,  walking  lonely 
The  path  that  Jesus  once  himself  hath  gone  ; 

Watch  thou  in  patience  through  this  hour  only, 
This  one  dark  hour  before  the  eternal  dawn. 

The  captive's  oar  may  pause  upon  the  galley, 
The  soldier  fleep  beneath  his  plumed  creft, 

And  peace  may  fold  her  wing  o'er  hill  and  valley, 
But  thou,  O  Chriftian,  muft  not  take  thy  reft. 


252  Miscellaneous. 


Thou  muft  walk  on,  however  man  upbraid  thee, 
With  Him  who  trod  the  wine-press  all  alone  ; 

Thou  wilt  not  find  one  human  hand  to  aid  thee, 
One  human  soul,  to  comprehend  thine  own. 

Heed  not  the  images  forever  thronging 

From  out  the  foregone  life  thou  liveft  no  more, 

Faint-hearted  mariner,  ftill  art  thou  longing 
For  the  dim  line  of  the  receding  fhore. 

Wilt  thou  find  reft  of  soul  in  thy  returning 
To  that  old  path  thou  haft  so  vainly  trod  ? 

Haft  thou  forgotten  all  thy  weary  yearning 
To  walk  among  the  children  of  thy  God  ? 

Faithful  and  fteadfaft  in  their  consecration, 
Living  by  that  high  faith  to  thee  so  dim, 

Declaring  before  God  their  dedication, 

So  far  from  thee,  because  so  near  to  him. 

Can'ft  thou  forget  thy  Chriftian  superscription — 
"Behold  we  count  them  happy  which  endure?" 

What  treasure  would'ft  thou  in  the  land  Egyptian, 
Repass  the  ftormy  water  to  secure  ? 


And  wilt 

thou  yield  thy 

sure 

and 

glorious 

promise 

For  the 

!  poor  fleeting 

joys 

earth 

can 

afford  ? 

No  hand 

can  take  away 

the 

treasure  from 

us 

That  refts  within  the 

keeping  of  the 

Lord. 

Miscellaneous. 


253 


Poor  wandering  soul — I  know  that  thou  art  seeking 
Some  eafier  way,  as  all  have  sought  before 

To  filence  the  reproachful  inward  speaking — 
Some  landward  path  unto  an  ifland  more  ! 

The  cross  is  heavy  in  thy  human  measure, 
The  way  too  narrow  for  thine  inward  pride, 

Thou  can'fl:  not  lay  thine  intellectual  treasure 
At  the  low  footftool  of  the  Crucified. 

O,  that  thy  faithless  soul,  one  hour  only 

Would  comprehend  the  Chriftian's  perfect  life, 

Despised  with  Jesus,  sorrowful  and  lonely, 
Yet  calmly  looking  upward  in  its  ftrife. 

For  poverty  and  self-renunciation, 

Their  Father  yieldeth  back  a  thousand  fold  ; 
In  the  calm  ftillness  of  regeneration, 

Cometh  a  joy  they  never  knew  of  old. 

In  meek  obedience  to  the  heavenly  Teacher, 
Thy  weary  soul  can  only  find  its  peace, 

Seeking  no  aid  from  any  human  creature  ; 
Looking  to  God  alone  for  his  release. 


And  He  will  come  in  his  own  time  and  power, 
To  set  his  earneft-hearted  children  free ; 

Watch  only  through  this  dark  and  painful  hour 
And  the  bright  morning  yet  will  break  for  thee. 


254 


Miscellaneous. 


THE   SACRIFICE. 

OALL  ye  who  pass  by,  whose  eyes  and  mind 
To  worldly  things  are  fharp,  but  to  me  blind,- 
To  me,  who  took  eyes  that  I   might  you  find  ; — 
Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Mine  own  apoftle,  who  the  bag  did  bear, 
Though  he  had  all  I  had,  did  not  forbear 
To  sell  me  also,  and  to  put  me  there. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Judas,  doft  thou  betray  me  with  a  kiss  ? 
Can'ft  thou  find  hell  about  my  lips,  and  miss 
Of  life,  juit  at  the  gates  of  life  and  bliss  ? 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

See,  they  lay  hold  on  me  ;  not  with  the  hands 
Of  faith,  but  fury.      Yet,  at  their  commands, 
I  suffer  binding,  who  have  loosed  their  bands. 

Was  ever  grief  like   mine? 


All  my  disciples  flee  ;   fear  put  a  bar 
Betwixt  my  friends  and  me.     They  leave  that  Star 
That  brought  wise  men  out  of  the  Eaft   from   far. 
Was  ever  grief  like   mine  ? 


Miscellaneous.  255 


Ah  !    how  they  scourge  me  !    yet  my  tenderness 
Doubles  each  lafh.      And  yet,  their  bitterness 
Winds  up  my  grief  to  a  myfteriousness. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Then  on  my  head  a  crown  of  thorns  I  wear ; 
For  these  are  all  the  grapes  Zion  doth  bear, 
Though  I  my  vine  planted  and  watered  there. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

So  fits  the  earth's  great  curse,  in  Adam's  fall, 
Upon  my  head  ;  so  I  remove  it  all 
From  th'  earth  unto  my  brows,  and  bear  the  thrall. 
Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

The  soldiers  also  spit  upon  that  face 
Which  angels  did  defire  to  have  the  grace, 
And  prophets,  once,  to  see,  but  found  no  place. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

But,  O  my  God!  my  God!  why  leaveft  thou  me, 
Thy  Son,  in  whom  thou  doft  delight  to  be  ? 

My  God  !    My  God  ! 

Never  was  grief  like  mine  ! 

Shame  tears  my  soul,  my  body  many  a  wound  j — 
Sharp  nails  pierce  this,  but  (harper  that  confound  ; 
Reproaches,  which  are  free  while  I  am  bound. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 


256  Miscellaneous. 


Now  heal  thy self  \   Physician  !  now  come  down  ! 

Alas  !   I  did  so,  when  I  left  my  crown, 

And  Father's  smile,  for  you  to  feel  his  frown. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Betwixt  two  thieves  I  spend  my  utmoft  breath, 

As  he  that  for  some  robbery  suffereth. 

Alas  !  what  have  I  ftolen  from  you  ?     Death. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

They  gave  me  vinegar  mingled  with  gall, — 

But  more  with  malice.     Yet,  when  they  did  call, 

With  manna,  angels'  food,  I  fed  them  all. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Nay,  after  death,  their  spite  (hall  further  go  ; 

For  they  will  pierce  my  side,  I   full  well  know  j — 

That,  as  fin  came,  so  sacraments    might  flow. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

But  now  I  die.     Now  all  is  finifhed — 

My  woe,  man's  weal :  and  now  I  bow  my  head. 

Only  let  others  say,  when  I  am  dead, 

Never  was  grief  like  mine  ! 

George   Herbert. 


Miscellaneous.  257 


THE   CHARMER. 

"  ^IT/'E  need  some  Charmer,  for  our  hearts  are  sore 

»  »    With  longings  for  the  things  that  may  not  be — 
Faint  for  the  friends  that  fhall  return  no  more 
Dark  with  diftruft,  or  wrung  with  agony. 

"  What  is  this  life  ?     And  what  to  us  is  Death  ? 

Whence  came  we  ?  whither  go  ?     And  where  are  those 
Who  in  a  moment  ftricken  from  our  fide 

PafTed  to  that  land  of  fhadow  and   repose. 

"  Are  they  all  duft  ?  and  duft  muft  we  become  ? 

Or  are  they  living  in  some  unknown  clime  ? 
Shall  we  regain  them  in  that  far-off  home, 

And  live  anew  beyond  the  waves  of  time  ? 

"  Oh  man  divine ! — on  thee  our  souls  have  hung, 
Thou  wert  our  teacher  in  these  queftions  high  ; 

But  ah  !   this  day  divides  thee  from  our  fide, 
And  veils  in  duft  thy  kindly  guiding  eye." 

So  spake  the  youth  of  Athens,  weeping  round 
When  Socrates  lay  calmly  down  to  die — 

So  spake  the  Sage,  prophetic  of  the  hour 

When  Earth's  fair  Morning  Star  mould  rise  on  high. 


258  Miscellaneous. 


They  found  him  not,  those  youths  of  soul  divine 
Long  seeking,  wandering,  watching  on  life's  fhore  : 

Reasoning,  aspiring,  yearning  for  the  light, 

Death  came  and  found  them — doubting  as  before. 

But  years  patted  on — and  lo  !  the  Charmer  came 
Pure,  filent,  sweet  as  comes  the  filver  dew — 

And  the  world  knew  him  not — he  walked  alone 
Encircled  only  by  his  trufting  few. 

Like  the  Athenian  Sage — rejected,  scorned, 

Betrayed,  condemned,  his  day  of  doom  drew  nigh, 

He  drew  his  faithful  few  more  closely  round, 
And  told  them  that  His  hour  was  come  to  die. 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,"  then  He  said  : 
My   Father's  house  has  manfions  large  and  fair  ; 

I  go  before  you  to  prepare  your  place  ; 

I  will  return  to  take  you  with  me  there. — 

And  fince  that  hour  the  awful  foe  is  charmed, 

And  life  and  death  are  glorified  and  fair  : 
Whither  He  went  we  know — the  way  we  know, 
And  with  firm  ftep  press  on  to  meet  Him  there. 

H.  B.  Stowe. 


Mhcella 


259 


THE   CALM   OF   THE   SOUL. 

WHEN  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean, 
And  billows  wild  contend  with  angry  roar, 
'Tis  said,  far  down  beneath  the  wild  commotion, 
That  peaceful  ftillness  reigneth,  evermore. 

Far,  far  beneath,  the  noise  of  tempefts  dieth, 
And  filver  waves  chime  ever  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  frorm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Difturbs  the  Sabbath  of  that  deeper  sea. 

So  to  the  heart  that  knows  thy  love,  O  Pureft  ! 

There  is  a  temple,  sacred  evermore, 
And  all  the  babble  of  life's  angry  voices, 

Dies  in  hufhed  ftillness,  at  its  peaceful  door. 

Far,  far  away,  the  roar  of  paflion  dieth, 

And  loving  thoughts  rise  calm  and  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  ftorm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Difturbs  the  soul  that  dwells,  O  Lord,  in  thee. 

O  reft  of  refts  !   O  peace,  serene,  eternal ! 

Thou  ever  liveft,  and  thou  changeft  never  ; 
And  in  the  secret  of  thy  presence  dwelleth 

Fulness  of  joy,  forever  and  forever. 

H.   B.   Stowe. 


260  Miscellaneous. 


WHEN   I   AWAKE    I    AM   STILL  WITH   THEE. 

STILL,  ftill  with  Thee — when  purple  morning  breaketh, 
When  the  bird  waketh,  and  the  fhadows  flee  ; 
Fairer  than  morning,  lovelier  than  the  daylight, 
Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness,  /  am  with   Thee. 

Alone  with  Thee — amid  the   myftic  fhadows, 
The  solemn  hum  of  nature  newly  born  ; 

Alone  with  Thee  in  breathless  adoration, 

In  the  calm  dew  and  frefhness  of  the  morn. 

As  in  the  dawning  o'er  the  waveless  ocean, 
The  image  of  the  morning  ftar  doth  reft, 

So  in  this  ftillness,  Thou  beholdeft  only 
Thine  image  in  the  waters  of  my  breaft. 

Still,  ftill  with  Thee  !  as  to  each  new-born  morning 
A  frefh  and  solemn  splendor  ftill  is  given, 

So  doth  this  blefled  consciousness  awaking, 

Breathe,  each  day,  nearness  unto  Thee  and  Heaven. 

When  finks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil,  to  flumber, 
Its  clofing  eye  looks  up  to  Thee  in  prayer  ; 

Sweet  the  repose  beneath  thy  wings  o'erfhading 
But  sweeter  ftill,  to  wake  and  find  Thee  there. 


Miscellaneous.  26 1 


So  fhall  it  be  at  laft,  in  that  bright  morning, 
When  the  soul  walceth,  and  life's  fhadows  flee  ; 

Oh !  in  that  hour,  fairer  than  daylight  dawning, 
Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,  /  am  with    Thee  ! 

H.   B.   Stowe. 


ORDINATION   HYMN. 

CHRIST  to  the  young  man  said  : "  Yet  one  thing  more 
If  thou  would'ft  perfect  be, 
Sell  all  thou  haft  and  give  it  to  the  poor, 
And  come  and  follow  me  !  " 

Within  this  temple  Chrift  again,  unseen, 

Those  sacred  words  hath  said, 
And  his  invifible  hands  to-day  have  been 

Laid  on  a  young  man's  head. 

And  evermore  befide  him  on  his  way 

The  unseen  Chrift  fhall  move, 
That  he  may  lean  upon  his  arm  and  say, 

"  Doft  thou,  dear  Lord,  approve  ?  " 

Befide  him  at  the  marriage  feaft  fhall  be, 

To  make  the  scene  more  fair ; 
Befide  him  in  the  dark  Gethsemane 

Of  pain  and  midnight  prayer. 


262  Miscellaneous. 


O  holy  truft  !   O  endless  sense  of  reft  ! 

Like  the  beloved  John 
To  lay  his  head  upon  the  Saviour's  breaft, 

And  thus  to  journey  on  ! 

Longfellow. 


HYMN   FOR   LENT. 


OWEEP  for  them  who  never  knew 
The  mother  of  our  love, 
And  fhed  thy  tears  for  orphan  ones, 

Whom  angels  mourn  above  ; 
The  wandering  fheep — the  ftraying  lambs, 

When  wolves  were  on  the  wold, 
That  left  our  Shepherd's  little  flock, 
And  ventured  from  his  fold. 

Nay,  blame  them  not !   for  them,  the  Lord 

Hath  loved  as  well  as  you  : 
But  O,  like  Jesus,  pray  for  them 

Who  know  not  what  they  do  : 
O  plead  as  once  the  Saviour  did, 

That  we  may  all  be  one, 
That  so  the  cruel  world  may  know 

The  Father  sent  the  Son. 


Miscellaneous.  263 


O  let  thy  Lenten  litanies 

Be  full  of  prayer  for  them ! 
O  go  ye  to  the  scattered  fheep 

Of  Israel's  parent  ftem  ! 
O  keep  thy  faft  for  Chriftendom  ! 

For  Christ's  dear  body  mourn ; 
And  weave  again  the  seamless  robe, 

That  faithless  friends  have  torn. 


Ye  love  your  dear  home-feftivals, 

With  every  month  entwined  ; 
O  weep  for  them  whose  sullen  hearths 

No  Chriftmas  garlands  bind  ! 
Those  Iceland  regions  of  the  faith 

No  changing  seasons  cheer, 
While  our  sweet  paths  drop  fruitfulness, 

Through  all  the  joyous  year. 

What  though  some  borealis-beams 

On  even  them  may  flare  ; 
Pray  God  the  sunlight  of  his  love 

May  rise    serenely  there  ! 
For  flafhy  gleams,  O  plead  the  Lord 

To  give  his  daily  ray  ! 
With  heavenly  light  at  morn  and  eve 

To  thaw  their  wintry  way. 

O  weep  for  those,  on  whom  the  Lord 
While  here  below  did  weep, 


264  Miscellaneous. 


Left  grievous  wolves  mould  enter  in, 

Not  sparing  of  his  fheep  ; 
And  eat  thy  bitter  herbs  awhile, 

That  when  our  Feaft  is  spread, 
These  too — that  gather  up  the  crumbs, 

May  eat  the  children's  bread. 

A.   C.    Coxe. 


•.»©»«- 


THE   BLESSING  AFTER   SERVICE. 

THE  peace  which  God  beftows, 
Through  him  who  died  and  rose, 
The  peace  the  Father  giveth  through  the  Son, 
Be  known  in  every  mind, 
The  broken  heart  to  bind, 
And  bless  each  traveller  as  he  journeys  on. 

Ye  who  have  known  to  weep, 

Where  your  beloved  fleep, 
Ye  who  have  raised  the  deep,  the  bitter  cry, 

God's  blefling  be  as  balm, 

The  fevered  soul  to  calm, 
And  wondrous  peace  the  troubled  mind  supply. 


Young  man,  whose  cheek  is  bright 
With  nature's  warmed  light, 


Miscellaneous.  265 


While  youth  and  health  thy  veins  with  rapture  swell 

Let  the  remembrance  be 

Of  thy  God  bleft  to  thee, 
Peace  pafling  underftanding  guard  thee  well. 

Parents,  whose  thoughts  afar, 

Turn  where  your  children  are, 
In  their  ftill  graves,  or  beneath  foreign  fkies, — 

This  hour,  God's  bleffing  come 

Cheer  the  deserted  home, 
And  peace,  with  dove-like  wings,  around  you  rise. 

Ere  this  week's  ftrife  begin, 

The  war  without,  within, 
The  God  of  Love,  with  spirit  and  with  power, 

Now  on  each  bended  head, 

His  wondrous  blefling  fhed, 
And  keep  you  all  through  every  troubled  hour. 


266 

Miscellaneous. 

STRENGTH. 

(To  an  Invalid.) 

The 

"  W/HEN  l  am  weak'  Pm  ftronS'" 
*  »      The  great  Apoftle  cried. 

ftrength  that  did  not  to  the  earth  belong, 

The  might  of  Heaven  supplied. 

"  When  I  am  weak,  I'm  ftrong," 
Blind  Milton  caught  that  ftrain, 

And 

flung  its  victory  o'er  the  ills  that  throng 

Round  Age,  and  Want,  and  Pain. 

"  When  I  am  weak,  I'm  ftrong," 

Each  Chriftian  heart  repeats  ; 
These  words  will  tune  its  feebleft  breath  to  song, 

And  fire  its  languid  beats. 

O  Holy  Strength  !  whose  ground 
Is  in  the  heavenly  land  ; 

And 

whose  supporting  help  alone  is  found 

In  God's  immortal  hand  ! 

Miscellaneous.  267 


O  blefled  !  that  appears 
When  flefhly  aids  are  spent ; 
And  girds  the  mind,  when  mod  it  faints  and  fears, 
With  truft  and  sweet  content. 

It  bids  us  caft  afide 
All  thoughts  of  lefler  powers  ; — 
Give  up  all  hopes  from  changing  time  and  tide, 
And  all  vain  will  of  ours. 

We  have  but  to  confess 
That  there's  but  one  retreat  : 
And  meekly  lay  each  need  and  each  diftress 
Down  at  the  Sovereign  feet ; — 

Then,  then,  it  fills  the  place 
Of  all  we  hoped  to  do  ; 
And  sunken  Nature  triumphs  in  the  Grace, 
That  bears  us  up  and  through. 

A  better  glow  than  health 
Flumes  the  cheek  and  brow, 
The  heart  is  stout  with  store  of  nameless  wealth  : — 
We  can  do  all  things  now. 

No  less  sufficience  seek  ; 
All  counsel  less  is  wrong  ; 
The  whole  world's  force  is  poor,  and  mean,  and  weak  ; — 
"  When  I  am  weak,  I'm  strong." 

N.   L.   Frothingham. 


268  Miscellaneous. 


CALL   TO   THE   PRODIGAL. 

RETURN,  O  wanderer,  return, 
And  seek  thy  Father's  face  ; 
Those  new  defires  that  in  thee  burn, 
Were  kindled  by  his  grace. 

Return,  O  wanderer,  return, 

Thy  Saviour  bids  thee  live  ; 
Go  to  his  bleeding  feet  and  learn 

How  Jesus  can  forgive. 

Return,  O  wanderer,  return, 

And  wipe  away  the  tear  ; 
'Tis  God  who  says,  "No  longer  mourn,' 

Mercy  invites  thee  near. 

Collyer. 


Miscellaneous.  269 


THE  MYSTERY   OF   CHASTISEMENT. 
"  We  glory  also  in  tribulations." — Romans  5  :  3. 

WITHIN  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 
So  little  worth,  doth  hidden  lie 
Moft  rare  and  subtile  fragrancy : 

Would'st  thou  its  secret  ftrength  unbind  ? 
Crufh  it,  and  thou  fhalt  perfume  find, 
Sweet  as  Arabia's  spicy  wind. 

In  this  dull  ftone,  so  poor,  and  bare 
Of  fhape  or  luftre,  patient  care 
Will  find  for  thee  a  jewel  rare. 

But  firft  muft  fkilful  hands  elTay, 
With  file  and  flint,  to  clear  away 
The  film,  which  hides  its  fire  from  day. 

This  leaf?  this  ftone?     It  is  thy  heart: 
It  muft  be  cruftied  by  pain  and  smart, 
It  muft  be  cleansed  by  sorrow's  art — 


270  Miscellaneous. 


Ere  it  will  yield  a  fragrance  sweet, 
Ere  it  will  mine,  a  jewel  meet 
To  lay  before  thy  dear  Lord's  feet. 


PROVIDENCE. 

SINCE  all  the  coming  scenes  of  time 
God's  watchful  eye  surveys, 
O  who  so  wise  to  choose  our  lot, 
And  regulate  our  ways  ? 

Since  none  can  doubt  his  equal  love, 

Immeasurably  kind, 
To  his  unerring  gracious   will, 

Be  every  wifh  refigned. 

Good  when  He  gives,  supremely  good, 

Nor  less  when  He  denies  ; 
E'en  crofTes  from  his  sovereign  hand, 

Are  blefllngs  in  disguise. 

Hervey. 


*-&?-> 


Miscellaneous.  2  7 : 


J 


"MY   TIMES   ARE   IN   THY   HAND." 
Psalm  31  :   15. 

"  1\/T^  t'mes  are  m  tny  hand," 
■i-»-i.   My  God,  I'd  have  them  there 

My  life,  my  friends,  my  soul,  I  leave 
Entirely  to  thy  care. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

Whatever  they  may  be  ; 
Pleafing  or  painful,  dark  or  bright, 

As  bed  may  seem  to  Thee. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 
Why  mould  I  doubt  or  fear  ? 

My  Father's  hand  will  never  cause 
His  child  a  needless  tear. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

I'll  always  truft  in  Thee  : 
And  after  death,  at  thy  right  hand 

I  fhall  for  ever  be. 


272  Miscellaneous. 


HE   LEADS   HIS   OWN. 

"  I  will  lead  them  in  the  paths  they  have  not  known." 

Isaiah  42  :   16. 

HOW  few  who,  from  their  youthful  day, 
Look  on  to  what  their  life  may  be  ; 
Painting  the  vifions  of  the  way 

In  colors  soft,  and  bright,  and  free. 
How  few  who  to  such  paths  have  brought 
The  hopes  and  dreams  of  early  thought ! 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

The  eager  hearts,  the  souls  of  fire, 

Who  pant  to  toil  for  God  and  man ; 
And  view  with  eyes  of  keen  defire 

The  upland  way  of  toil  and  pain  ; 
Almoft  with  scorn  they  think  of  reft, 
Of  holy  calm,  of  tranquil  breaft, 

But  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

A  lowlier  tafk  on  them  is  laid, — 
With  love  to  make  the  labor  light  ; 


Miscellaneous .  273 


And  there  their  beauty  they  muft  fried 

On  quiet  homes  and  loft  to  fight. 
Changed  are  their  vifions  high  and  fair, 
Yet  calm,  and  ftill,  they  labor  there  ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

The  gentle  heart  that  thinks  with  pain, 

It  scarce  can  lowlieft  tafks  fulfil ; 
And,  if  it  dared  its  life  to  scan, 

Would  afk  but  pathway  low  and  ftill. 
Often  such  lowly  heart  is  brought 
To  aft  with  power  beyond  its  thought ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

And  they,  the  bright,  who  long  to  prove, 

In  joyous  path,  in  cloudless  lot, 
How  frefh  from  earth  their  grateful  love 

Can  spring  without  a  ftain  or  spot, — 
Often  such  youthful  heart  is  given 
The  path  of  grief,  to  walk  in  Heaven  ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

What  matter  what  the  path  fhall  be  ? 

The  end  is  clear  and  bright  to  view  ; 
We  know  that  we  a  ftrength  fhall  see, 

Whate'er  the  day  may  bring  to  do, 


274  Miscellaneous. 


We  see  the  end,  the  house  of  God, 
But  not  the  path  to  that  abode ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 


CORRECTION    NEEDED. 

"  Wherefore  doth  a  living  man  complain,  a  man  for  the  punish- 
ment of  his  fins  ?  " — Lamentations  3  :  39. 

WISH  not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away  ; 
Wiih  me  a  wise  and  thankful  heart, 
With  God,  in  all  my  griefs,  to  ftay, 
Nor  from  his  loved  correction  ftart. 

The  deareft  offering  He  can  crave, 
His  portion  in  our  souls  to  prove, 
What  is  it  to  the  gift  He  gave, 
The  only  Son  of  his  dear  love  ? 

In  life's  long  fickness,  evermore 
Our  thoughts  are  tofling  to  and  fro : 
We  change  our  pofture  o'er  and  o'er, 
But  cannot  reft,  nor  cheat  our  woe. 


Miscellaneous.  275 


Were  it  not  better  to  lie  ftill, 
Let  Him  ftrike  home,  and  bless  the  rod? 
Never  so  safe  as  when  our  will 
Yields,  undiscerned  by 


DETAINED   FROM  THE   SANCTUARY. 

"  For  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude ;  I  went  with  them  to  the 
house  of  God,  with  the  voice  of  joy  and  praise,  with  a  multitude  that 
kept  holy  day." — Psalm  42  :  4. 

SWEET  Sabbath  bells  !  I  love  your  voice, — 
You  call  me  to  the  house  of  prayer ; 
Oft  have  you  made  my  heart  rejoice, 
When  I  have  gone  to  worfhip  there. 

But  now,  a  prisoner  of  the  Lord, 

His  hand  forbids,  I  cannot  go ; 
Yet  may  I  here  his  love  record, 

And  here  the  sweets  of  worfhip  know. 

Each  place  alike  is  holy  ground, 

Where  prayer  from  humble  souls  is  poured  ; 
Where  praise  awakes  its  filver  sound, 

Or  God  is  filently  adored. 


276  Miscellaneous. 


His  san&uary  is  the  heart, — 

There,  with  the  contrite,  will  he  reft 
Lord,  come,  a  Sabbath  frame  impart, 

And  make  thy  temple  in  my  breaft. 


CLINGING  TO   JESUS. 

"  Seeing  then  we  have  a  great  high  priest  that  is  passed  into  the 
heavens,  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession." 

Heb.  4 :   14. 

HOLY  Saviour,  friend  unseen, 
Since  on  thy  arm  thou  bid'ft  me  lean, 
Help  me  throughout  life's  varying  scene, 

By  faith  to  cling  to  thee ! 

Bleft  with  this  fellowfhip  divine, 

Take  what  thou  wilt,  I'll  ne'er  repine  ; 

E'en  as  the  branches  to  the  vine, 

My  soul  would  cling  to  thee  ! 

Far  from  her  home,  fatigued,  oppreft, 
Here  fhe  has  found  her  place  of  reft ; 
An  exile  ftill,  yet  not  unbleft, 

While  (he  can  cling  to  thee  ! 


Miscellan  eous.  277 


Oft,  when  I  seem  to  tread  alone 

Some  barren  wafte  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 

Thy  voice  of  love,  in  tendereft  tone, 

Whispers,  "  ftill  cling  to  me! 

Though  faith  and  hope  may  oft  be  tried, 
I  afk  not,  need  not,  aught  befide  ; 
How  safe,  how  calm,  how  satisfied, 

The  soul  that  clings  to  thee ! 

Bleft  is  my  lot,  whate'er  befall ; 
What  can  difturb  me,  what  appall, 
Whilft  as  my  rock,  my  ftrength,  my  all, 

Saviour !  I  cling  to  thee  ? 


COMMITTING  THE   SOUL   TO   THE   SAVIOUR. 

"  Into  thy  hand  I  commit  my  spirit ;  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  O 
Lord  God  of  truth." — Psalm  31:5. 

MY  spirit  on  thy  care, 
Bleft  Saviour,  I  recline ; 
Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  to  despair, 
For  thou  art  love  divine. 


278  Miscellaneous. 


In  thee  I  place  my  truft, 

On  thee  I  calmly  reft ; 
I  know  thee  good, — I  know  thee  juft, 

And  count  thy  choice  the  best. 


Whate'er  events  betide, 

Thy  will  they  all  perform  ; 

Safe  in  thy  breaft  my  head  I  hide 
Nor  fear  the  coming  ftorm. 

Let  good  or  ill  befall, 

It  muft  be  good  for  me  ; 

Secure  of  having  thee  in  all, 
Of  having  all  in  thee. 


LORD,   I   BELIEVE. 

"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." — Mark  9  :  24. 

ES,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine  ; 
Thou  art  my  joy — myself,  mine  only  grief; 
Hear  my  complaint,  low  bending  at  thy  fhrine, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 


Y 


Miscellaneous.  279 

Unworthy,  even,  to  approach  so  near, 

My  soul  lies  trembling  like  a  summer's  leaf; 

Yet,  O  forgive  !  I  doubt  not,  though  I  fear, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

True,  I  am  weak,  ah,  very  weak  ;  but  then 
I  know  the  source  whence  I  can  draw  relief; 

And,  though  repulsed,  I  frill  can  plead  again, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

O,  draw  me  nearer ;  for,  too  far  away, — 

The  beamings  of  thy  brightness  are  too  brief; 

While  faith,  though  fainting,  ftill  have  ftrength  to  pray, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 


DOWN  the  dark  future,  through  long  generations, 
The  sounds  of  war  grow  fainter,  and  then  cease 
And  like  a  bell  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 

I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  Chrift  say,  "  Peace  ! 

Peace !  and  no  longer,  from  its  brazen  portals 
The  blaft  of  war's  great  organ  makes  the  ikies ; 

But  beautiful  as  songs  of  the  immortals, 
The  holy  melodies  of  love  arise. 

Longfellow. 


280  Miscellaneous. 


CHRIST   UNCHANGING. 

;  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  forever." 

Eeb.  13:  S. 

CHANGE  is  written  everywhere, 
Time  and  death  o'er  all  are  ranging  ; 
Seasons,  creatures,  all  declare, 

Man  is  mortal,  earth  is  changing. 

Life,  and  all  its    treasures,  seem 

Like  a  sea  in  conftant  motion  j 
Thanks  for  an  eternal  beam 

Shining  o'er  the  pathless  ocean. 

One  by  one,  although  each  name 

Providence  or  death  will  sever  ; 
Jesus  Chrift  is  frill  the  same, 

Yefterday,  to-day,  forever. 


<&fcs> 


Miscellaneous.  28: 


"I   SHALL   BE   SATISFIED." 

NOT  here  ! — not  here  !   Not  where  the  sparkling  waters 
Fade  into  mocking  sands  as  we  draw  near : 
Where  in  the  wilderness  each  footftep  falters — 
"  I  fhall  be  satisfied  ;  "  but,   O  !   not  here  ! 

Not  here — all  the  dreams  of  bliss  deceive  us, 
Where  the  worn  spirit  never  gains  its  goal ; 

Where,  haunted  ever  by  the  thought  that  grieves  us, 
Across  us  floods  of  bitter  memory  roll. 

There  is  a  land  where  every  pulse  is  thrilling 
With  rapture  earth's  sojourners  may  not  know, 

Where  heaven's  repose  the  weary  heart  is  ftilling, 
And  peacefully  life's  time-toffed  currents  flow. 

Far  out  of  fight,  while  yet  the  flefh  infolds  us, 
Lies  the  fair  country  where  our  hearts  abide, 

And  of  its  bliss  is  nought  more  wondrous  told  us 
Than  these  few  words — "  I  fhall  be  satisfied." 

Satisfied  !     Satisfied  !     The  spirit's  yearning 

For  sweet  companionihip  with  kindred  minds — 

The  filent  love  that  here  meets  no  returning — 
The  inspiration  which  no  language  finds — 


282  Miscella  neous. 


Shall  they  be  satisfied  ?     The  soul's  vague  longing — 
The  aching  void  which  nothing  earthly  fills  ? 

O  !  what  defires  upon  my  soul  are  thronging 
As  I  look  upward  to  the  heavenly  hills. 

Thither  my  weak  and  weary  fteps  are  tending — 
Saviour  and  Lord!  with  thy  frail  child  abide! 

Guide  me  toward  Home,  where  all  my  wandering  ending, 
I  then  fhall  see  thee,  and  "Jhall  be  satisfied." 


FROM  "THE   CHERUBIC    PILGRIM,' 


«  /^OD'I 
VJ   If  I 


The  Dew  and  the  Rose. 
OD'S  spirit  falls  on  me  as  dew-drops  on  a  rose, 
but  like  a  rose  to  him  my  heart  unclose. 


The   Tabernacle. 
The     soul    wherein  God    dwells — what  church   can    holier 

be?— 
Becomes  a  walking  tent  of  heavenly  majefty. 

The  Difference. 
Ye  know  God  but  as  Lord,  hence  Lord  his  name  with  ye, 
I  feel  him  but  as  Love,  and  Love  his  name  with  mc. 


Miscellaneous.  283 


1 


Chrijl  must  be  Born  in   Thee. 
Though  Chrift  a  thousand  times  in  Bethlehem  be  born, 
If  He's  not  born  in  thee,  thy  soul  is  ftill  forlorn. 

The  Outward  Profiteth  Not. 
The  cross  on  Golgotha  will  never  save  thy  soul, 
The  cross  in  thine  heart  alone  can  make  thee  whole. 

The  only    Want's  in    Thee. 
Ah,  would  thy  heart  but  be  a  manger  for  the  birth, 
God  would  once  more  become  a  child  upon  the  earth. 

The  Seasons  of  the  Day. 
In  Heaven  is  the  day,  in  Hell  below,  the  night ; 
'Tis  twilight  here  on  Earth  :  confider  this  aright ! 

The  loveliest   Tone. 
In  all  Eternity,  no  tone  can  be  so  sweet 
As  where  man's  heart  with  God  in  unison  doth  beat. 

Magnet  and  Steel. 
God  is  a  magnet  ftrong  ;  my  heart,  it  is  the  flee], 
'Twill  always  turn  to  Him,  if  once  his  touch  it  feel. 

Love's   Transubstantiation. 
Whate'er  thou  loveft,  man,  that  too  become  thou  muft  : 
God — if  thou  loveft  God  ;  Duft — if  thou  loveft  duft. 


284  Miscellaneous. 


The  Well  is  Deep. 
Why  fhould'ft  thou  cry  for  drink  ?  The  fountain  is  in  thee, 
Which  so  thou  ftopp'ft  it  not,  will  flow  eternally. 

John  4 :    11. 

To   Theologians. 
Within  this  span  of  time,  God's  name  ye  will  unfold, 
Which  in  eternities  can  never  quite  be  told. 

Blejfedness. 
The  soul  that's  truly  bleft,  knows  not  of  selfifhness  ; 
She  is  one  light  with  God,  with  God  one  Blefledness. 

Old  and  Young. 
Thou  smileft  at  the  child  that  cryeth  for  his  toys, 
Are  they  less  toys,  old  man,  that  cause  thy  griefs  and  joys  ? 

It  is  Here. 
Why  travel  over  seas  to  find  what  is  so  near  ? 
Love  is  the  only  good  ;  love  and  be  blefTed  here. 

Spiritual  Sun  and  Moon. 
Be  Jesus  thou  my  Sun,  and  let  me  be  thy  moon, 
Then  will  my  darkefr.  night  be  changed  to  brighteft  noon. 

The  Spiritual  Mount. 
I  am  a  mount  in  God,  and  muft  myself  ascend, 
Shall  God,  to  speak  to  me,  upon  my  top  descend. 


Miscellaneous.  285 

Life  in  Death. 
In  God  alone  is  Life,  without  God  is  but  death, 
An  endless  godless  life  were  but  a  life  in  death. 

Wisdom  a  Child. 
We  afk  how  Wisdom  can  thus  play  in  children's  guise? 
Why  Wisdom  is  a  child,  so's  every  man  that's  wise. 

The  Valley  and  the  Rain. 
Let  but  thy  heart,  O  man  !  become  a  valley  low, 
And  God  will  rain  on  it  till  it  will  overflow. 

Divine  Music. 
A  quiet  patient  heart  that  meekly  serves  his  Lord, 
God's  finger  joys  to  touch ;  it  is  his  harpfichord. 

How  we  can  see  God. 
God  dwelleth  in  a  light  far  out  of  human  ken, 
Become  thyself  that  light,  and  thou  wilt  see  Him  then. 

God's  Work  and  Reft. 
God  never  yet  has  worked,  nor  did  He  ever  reft, 
His  reft  is  aye  his  work,  his  work  is  aye  his  reft. 

Great  Gifts  and  small  Receivers. 
Our  great  God  always  would  the  greateft  gifts  impart, 
If  but  his  greateft  gifts  found  not  so  small  a  heart. 


286  Miscellaneous. 


To  the  Reader. 
Let,  Reader,  this  suffice.  But  fhould'ft.  thou  wifh  for  more, 
Then  read  in  thine  own  heart  a  page  of  myftic  lore. 

Angclus  Silesius. 


FROM   ALGER'S   ORIENTAL   POETRY. 

The  Beatific  Fiji  on. 
IE  dazzling  beauty  of  the  Loved  One  fhines  unseen, 
And  selPs  the  curtain  o'er  the  road  ;  away,  O  screen  ! 


The  Luminous    Truth. 
"Who  will  give  me  his  heart,"  said  God,  "  my  love  he  fhall 

find." 
With  that  speech  a  resplendent  sun  fell  into  my  mind. 

The   Two   Travellers. 
Says  God  :  "  Who  comes  towards  Me  an  inch  through 

doubtings  dim, 
In  blazing  light  I  do  approach  a  yard  towards  him." 

All  is  Safe. 
Whatever  road  I  take,  it  joins  the  ftreet 
Which  leadeth  all  who  walk  it  Thee  to  meet. 


Miscellaneous.  28  7 


The  Divine  Judgment. 
God  afks,  not  "  To  what  sect  did  he  belong  ? " 
But  "  Did  he  do  the  right,  or  love  the  wrong  ?  " 

Precept  without  Practice. 
Who  learns  and  learns,  but  a&s  not  what  he  knows, 
Is  one  who  ploughs  and  ploughs,  but  never  sows. 

A  Rank  in  Joys. 
My  heart  !  abftain  thou  from  the  senses'  dear  wine-bowl ; 
Diviner  joys  thy  God  intends  fhall  through  thee  roll. 

Nip  the  Bud. 
A  sprout  of  evil,  ere    it  has  ftruck  root, 
With  thumb  and  finger  one  up-pulls  : 
To  ftart  it,  when  grown  up  and  full  of  fruit, 
Requires  a  mighty  yoke  of  bulls. 

Swift  Opportunity. 
A  thousand  years  a  poor  man  watched 
Before  the  gate  of  Paradise  : 
But  while  one  little  nap  he  snatched, 
It  oped  and  fhut.     Ah  !  was  he  wise  ? 

Squandered  Youth. 
Ah,  five-and-twenty  years  ago  had  I  but  planted  seeds  of 

trees, 
How  now  I  mould  enjoy  their    made,  and  see    their   fruit 

swing  in  the  breeze  ! 


288                                  Miscellaneous. 

The  Pilgrim  to  Deity. 
Heedless,  allured,  one  moment  I   forgot  my  goal 
A  thousand  years  it  ftretched  the  journey  of  my 

The  Pledge  and  the   Thing. 
This  life  is  a  dim  pledge  of  friendfhip  from  our 
Give  me  the  Friend,  and  the  pledge  may  fink  in 

soul. 

God: 
the  sod. 

Cling  not    to  aught   that  may  be  snatched    from    o'er    the 

rim  ; 
One  fairy  tale  was  all  that  Jemschid  took  with  him. 

God  All  in  All. 
Exempt  from  luft,  exempt  from  love  of  pelf, 
The  wise  man  acts  unconscious  of  himself. 
He  cares  not  for  his  actions'  consequence, 
But  feeds  devotion's  fire  with  pure  incense. 
God   is  his  gift,  his  sacrifice  is  God  ; 
God  is  his  sacrificial  knife  and  rod, 
Himself,  his  altar,  altar's  flame,  the  sword  ; 
God  also  is  the  worfhip's  sole  reward. 


Miscellaneous.  289 


THE   BEGGAR'S   COURAGE. 

TO  heaven  approached  a  Sufi  saint, 
From  groping  in  the  darkness  late, 
And,  tapping  timidly  and  faint, 
Besought  admiffion  at  God's  gate. 

Said  God,  "  Who  seeks  to  enter  here  ?  " 
"  'Tis  I,  dear  Friend,"  the  saint  replied, 

And  trembled  much  with  hope  and  feir. 
"  If  it  be  thou,  without  abide." 

Sadly  to  earth  the  poor  saint  turned, 
To  bear  the  scourgings  of  life's  rods  ; 

But  aye  his  heart  within  him  yearned 
To  mix  and  lose  its  love  in  God's. 

He  roamed  alone  through  weary  years, 
By  cruel  men  ftill  scorned  and  mocked, 

Until,  from  faith's  pure  fires  and  tears, 
Again  he  rose,  and  modeft  knocked. 

Afked  God,  "  Who  now  is  at  the  door  ?  " 
"  It  is  thyself,  beloved  Lord  !  " 

Answered  the  saint,  in  doubt  no  more, 
But  clasped  and  rapt  in  his  reward. 


290  Miscellaneous. 


THE   SAYINGS   OF   RABIA. 


A   pious  friend  one  day  of  Rabia  afked 
How  fhe  had  learned  the  truth  of  Allah  wholly : 
By  what  inftructions  was  her  memory  talked  ? 

How  was  her  heart  eftranged  from  the  world's  folly  ? 

She  answered,  "  Thou,  who  knoweft  God  in  parts, 
Thy  spirit's  moods  and  procefles  can  tell  : 

I  only  know  that,  in  my  heart  of  hearts, 

I  have  despised  myself,  and  loved  Him  well." 

II. 
Some  evil  upon  Rabia  fell ; 
And  one,  who  loved  and  knew  her  well, 
Murmured^  that  God,  with  pain  undue, 
Should  ftrike  a  child  so  fond  and  true. 
But  fhe  replied,  "  Believe  and  truft 
That  all  I  suffer  is  moft  juft. 
I   had,  in  contemplation,  ftriven 
To  realize  the  joys  of  heaven  ; 
I  had  extended  Fancy's  flights 
Through  all  that  region  of  delights  ; 
Had  counted,  till  the  numbers  failed, 
The  pleasures  on  the  bleft  entailed  ; 
Had  sounded  the  ecftatic  reft 


Miscellaneous.  291 


I  mould  enjoy  on  Allah's  breaft  ; 
And  for  those  thoughts  I  now  atone, 
They  were  of  something  of  my  own, 
And  were  not  thoughts  of  Him  alone. 


III. 
When  Rabia  unto  Mecca  came, 
She  flood  awhile  apart,  alone ; 
Nor  joined  the  crowd,  with  hearts  of  flame, 
Collected  round  the  sacred  ftone. 

She  like  the  reft,  with  toil  had  crofTed 
The  waves  of  water,  rock,  and  sand  j 
And  now,  as  one  long  tempeft-toffed, 
Beheld  the  Raala's  promised  land. 

Yet  in  her  eyes  no  transport  gliftened  : 
She  seemed  with  fhame  and  sorrow  bowed  : 
The  fhouts  of  prayer  me  hardly  liftened  j 
She  beat  her  heart,  and  cried  aloud, — 

"  O  heart !  weak  follower  of  the  weak, 
That  thou  fhould'ft  traverse  land  and  sea, 
In  this  far  place  that  God  to  seek 
Who  long  ago  had  come  to  thee  !  " 


292  Miscellaneous. 


IV. 
Round  holy  Rabia's  suffering  bed 

The  wise  men  gathered,  gazing  gravely. 
"  Daughter  of  God !  "  the  youngeft  said, 

"  Endure  the  Father's  chafkning  bravely  : 
They  who  have  fteeped  their  souls  in  prayer, 
Can  every  anguifh  calmly  bear." 

She  answered  not,  and  turned  afide, 

Though  not  reproachfully  or  sadly. 
"  Daughter  of  God !  "  the  eldeft  cried, 

"  Suftain  thy  Father's  chaftening  gladly  : 
They  who  have  learned  to  pray  aright, 
From  Pain's  dark  well  draw  up  delight." 

Then  spake  (he  out,  "  Your  words  are  fair ; 

But  oh  !  the  truth  lies  deeper  still : 
I  know  not,  when  absorbed  in  prayer, 

Pleasure  or  pain,  or  good  or  ill : 
They  who  God's  face  can  understand, 
Feel  not  the  workings  of  his  hand." 

"Heart  Songs.' 


Miscellaneous.  293 


HEAR  what  God,  the  Lord,  hath  spoken 
O  my  people,  faint  and  few, 
Comfortless,  afflicted,  broken, 

Fair  abodes  I  build  for  you  ; 
Scenes  of  heartfelt  tribulation 

Shall  no  more  perplex  your  ways  ; 

You  fhall  name  your  walls  salvation, 

And  your  gates  fhall  all  be  praise. 

There,  like  ftreams  that  feed  the  garden 

Pleasures  without  end  fhall  flow  ; 
For  the  Lord,  your  faith  rewarding, 

All  his  bounty  fhall  beftow : 
Still  in  undifturbed  poffeffion 

Peace  and  righteousness  fhall  reign ; 
Never  fhall  you  feel  oppreffion, 

Hear  the  voice  of  war  again. 

Ye,  no  more  your  suns  descending 

Waning  moons  no  more  fhall  see  ; 
But  your  griefs  forever  ending, 

Find  eternal  noon  in  me : 
God  fhall  rise,  and  mining  o'er  you, 

Change  to  day  the  gloom  of  night ; 
He,  the  Lord,  fhall  be  your  glory, 

God  your  everlafting  light. 

Cowper. 


INDEX   TO   FIRST   LINES. 


PAGE 

A  pious  friend  one  day  of  Rabia  afked 290 

Ah  !  dearest  Lord  !   I  cannot  pray 69 

All  ye  who  seek  a  certain  cure 79 

All  ye  who  seek,  in  hope  and  love 99 

Answer  with  all  thy  pulses,  throb  and  speak 234 

At  the  Cross  her  station  keeping 129 

Banished  the  House  of  sacred  rest 191 

Bright  Angels  who  attend 30 

Bright  Cherubim  and  Seraphim 98 

Bright  were  the  mornings  first  impearl'd 97 

Change  is  written  every  where 280 

Cheer  up  desponding  soul 28 

Christ  to  the  young  man  said  :  Yet  one  thing  more     ....  261 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  and  through  each  heart 8 

Come  my  soul  awake 'tis  morning 172 

Come,  O  Creator  Spirit  blest •     .  20 

Come  wandering  sheep,  O  come 73 

Cometh  sunshine  after  rain 158 

Creator  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 52 

Darker  and  darker  fall  around 127 


296  Index. 

PAGE 

Dear  Angel !  ever  at  my  side 125 

Dear  Soul,  couldst  thou  become  a  child 145 

Deepen  the  wounds  thy  hands  have  made 220 

Depart  awhile  each  thought  of  care 19 

Do  not  cheat  thy  heart,  and  tell  her 247 

Down  the  dark,  future,  through  long  generations 279 

Earth  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers 250 

Ere  the  morning's  busy  ray 227 

Eternity,  Eternity  ! 147 

Exempt  from  lust,  exempt  from  love  of  pelf 288 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !  living  still 29 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 229 

Father,  in  thy  mysterious  presence  kneeling 242 

Father  of  lights  !  one  glance  of  thine 115 

Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 143 

Five  loving  souls,  each  one  as  mine 205 

From  highest  Heaven,  the  Father's  Son 119 

God  liveth  ever 150 

God's  Spirit  falls  on  me        .     .                    282 

God,  Thou  art  my  Rock  of  strength 165 

God  whom  I  as  love  have  known 175 

Grant  us  a  body  pure  within          17 

Great  Framer  of  the  earth  and  sky 6 

Hark  my  soul  how  every  thing 232 

Have  mercy  Thou,  most  gracious  God 36 

He  is  a  path  if  any  be  misled     ...                231 

Head  of  the  Hosts  in  glory 95 

Hear  what  God,  the  Lord,  hath  spoken 292. 

Hear'st  thou  my  soul  what  serious  things 47 

Holy  Saviour,  friend  unseen 276 

Holy  Spirit  I  Lord  of  Light 51 


Index.  297 

PAGE 

Holy  and  innocent  were  all  his  ways 114 

How  few  who  from  their  youthful  day 272 

I  come  to  Thee  to-night 223 

I  love  my  God  but  with  no  love  of  mine 247 

I  think  when  I  read  the  sweet  story  of  old 240 

I  want  the  spirit  of  power  within 244 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go 157 

I  worship  thee,  sweef  Will  of  God 45 

In  caves  of  the  lone  wilderness  thy  youth 100 

In  having  all  things  and  not  Thee,  what  have  I 231 

I I  is  not  life  upon  thy  gifts  to  live        241 

It  is  the  fall  of  eve 217 

Jerusalem,  thou  City  blest 120 

Jesu,  I  my  Cross  have  taken 32 

Jesu,  the  very  thought  of  Thee ■ 75 

Jesus,  the  only  thought  of  Thee 245 

Just  as  I  am!  without  one  plea 221 

Leave  God  to  order  all  thy  ways 170 

Let  us  arise  and  watch  ere  dawn  of  light    ........  9 

Lift  up  your  hearts 43 

Lift  up  your  heads  ye  mighty  gates 141 

Light !   Light !   Infinite  Light !        74 

Light  of  the  soul,  O  Saviour  blest 84 

Lo  !  cast  at  random  on  the  wild  sea  sand 212 

Lo  !  fainter  now  lie  spread  the  shades  of  night n 

Lo  !   He  comes  with  clouds  descending 89 

Lo  !  on  the  slope  of  yonder  shore 106 

Lo  !  upon  the  altar  lies 116 

Look  westward,  pensive  little  one 200 

Lord,  I  have  fasted,  I  have  prayed 186 

Lord,  in  this  dust  thy  sovereign  voice 182 

Lord  of  all  power  !  at  whose  command 55 


298  Index. 

PAGE 

Lord  of  eternal  purity 22 

Lord  of  eternal  truth  and  might 8 

Lord  what  a  change  within  us  one  short  hour 237 

Lovely  flowers  of  martyrs,  hail 114 

Most  High  and  Holy  Trinity 163 

My  child,  the  counsels  high  attend 195 

My  God,  accept  my  heart  this  day 31 

My  God,  I  love  Thee  not  because 37 

My  Saviour  what  Thou  didst  of  old 155 

My  smile  is  bright,  my  glance  is  free 189 

My  Soul !  what  hast  thou  done  for  God 61 

My  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 27 

My  spirit  on  thy  care 277 

My  times  are  in  thy  hand 271 

Nigher  still,  and  still  more  nigh 85 

No  track  is  on  the  sunny  sky 133 

Not  here,  not  here,  not  where  the  sparkling  waters 281 

Now  at  the  Lamb's  high  royal  feast 83 

Now  doth  the  sun  ascend  the  sky 4 

Now  let  us  sit  and  weep 78 

Now  rests  her  soul  in  Jesus' arms 176 

Now  while  the  herald  bird  of  day 14 

Now  with  the  rising  golden  dawn 16 

O  all  ye  who  pass  by,  whose  eyes  and  mind 254 

O  blessed  Saint,  of  snow-white  purity 105 

O  blest  Creator  of  the  light 3 

O  bounteous  Framer  of  the  globe 50 

O  Captain  of  the  Martyr  Host 104 

O  Christ !  the  beauty  of  the  angel  worlds 101 

O  come  and  mourn  with  me  awhile 81 

O  Faith  !  thou  workcst  miracles 34 

O  for  the  happy  days  gone  by 66 


Inde 


299 


PAGE 

O  Friend  of  souls,  how  well  is  me 168 

O  Heart  of  fire  !  misjudged  by  wilful  man 187 

O  Holy  Ghost,  Thou  fire  divine 161 

O  how  I  fear  Thee,  living  God 26 

O  how  the  thought  of  God  attracts 23 

Oh  how  we  pine  for  truth  for  something  more 236 

O  it  is  hard  to  work  for  God 39 

O  Jesu  !  Thou  the  beauty  art 77 

O  Jesus  !  King  most  wonderful     ■ 76 

Oh  Lord  !  how  happy  should  we  be 228 

Oh  that  it  were  as  it  was  wont  to  be 92 

O  Thou  pure  light  of  souls  that  love 87 

O  Thou  the  Father's  Image  blest 10 

O  Thou  true  life  of  all  that  live "...       9 

O  Thou  whose  wise  paternal  Love 246 

Oh  turn  those  blessed  points,  all  bathed 91 

Onward  Christian,  through  the  region 243 

O  watchman  will  the  night  of  sin 139 

O  weep  for  them  who  never  knew 262 

Oh  what  a  load  of  struggle  and  distress 235 

Our  limbs  with  tranquil  sleep  refresh'd 5 

Perfect  in  love,  Lord  can  it  be 239 

Preserve,  my  Jesus,  oh  preserve 117 

Prune  thou  thy  words,  the  thoughts  control 185 

Pure  Light  of  light!  eternal  Day 13 

Pure,  meek,  with  soul  serene 108 

Return,  O  wanderer,  return 268 

Rise,  glorious  Conqueror,  rise 93 

Rock  of  Ages,  rent  for  me 88 

Round  holy  Rabia's  suffering  bed 292 

She  once  was  a  lady  of  honor  and  wealth        in 

Shed  kindly  light  amid  the  encircling  gloom 184 


300  Index. 

PAGE 

Since  all  the  coming  scenes  of  time 270 

Sing  we  the  peerless  deeds  of  martyr'd  Saints        102 

Soil  not  thy  plumage,  gentle  dove 12 

Soldiers  of  Christ !  arise       59 

Some  evil  upon  Rabia  fell 290 

Star  of  the  wide  and  pathless  sea 131 

Still,  still  with  Thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh  .     .     .     .     260 
Sweet  Sabbath  bells,  I  love  your  voice 275 

Tear  not  away  the  veil,  dear  friend 202 

The  Church  is  one  wide  harvest  field 204 

The  dazzling  beauty  of  the  loved  one 286 

The  light  of  love  is  round  his  feet ...  56 

The  Lord's  eternal  gifts 103 

The  night  is  come,  like  to  the  day 226 

The  night  is  dark — behold  the  shade  was  deeper 251 

The  pall  of  night  o'ershades  the  earth 21 

The  peace  which  God  bestows 264 

The  silver  chord  in  twain  is  snapp'd 44 

The  star  that  heralds  in  the  morn 18 

Thee  in  the  hymns  of  morn  we  praise 22 

There  is  a  calm  the  Poor  in  Spirit  know 233 

There  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 181 

They  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace 238 

Thou  art  of  all  created  things 135 

Thou  Grace  divine,  encircling  all 2:2 

Thou  loving  Maker  of  mankind 54 

Thy  word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews 153 

To  Christ,  the  Prince  of  Peace 80 

To  heaven  approached  a  Sufi  saint 289 

To  the  hall  of  that  feast  came  the  sinful  and  fair 60 

Two  hands  upon  the  breast 249 

Upon  our  fainting  souls  distil 17 


Index.  30 1 

PAGE 

We  need  some  Charmer,  for  our  hearts  are  sore 257 

We  watch'd,  as  she  linger'd  all  the  day 109 

What  time  the  Saviour  spread  his  feast 196 

When  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return 199 

When  I  am  weak,  I'm  strong 266 

When  I  look,  back  upon  my  former  race 184 

When  I  sink  down  in  gloom  or  fear 190 

When  Rabia  into  Mecca  came 291 

When  thou  dost  talk  with  God 71 

When  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean 259 

What  is  the  Church,  and  what  am  I 207 

While  Thou,  O  my  God,  art  my  help  and  defender       ....  49 

Why  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof 211 

Why  dost  thou  beat  so  quick,  my  heart        64 

Why  haltest  thus  deluded  heart 166 

Why  is  thy  face  so  lit  with  smiles 122 

Why  should  we  grudge  the  hour  and  house  of  prayer  .     .     .     .  213 

Wish  not  dear  friends  my  pain  away        274 

Within  this  leaf  to  every  eye 269 

Ye  mist  and  darkness,  cloud  and  storm        15 

Yes,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine 278 


1 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY, 

BERKELEY 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 

STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  per  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.     Books  -not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 

FEB  18  1921 

OCT  11'  ?» 

FEB  23 

1932 

OBfB 

^6**               ! 

APR  { 

4  m 

CKCUUT 

'ON  OB»r. 

20m-ll,'20 

GENERM- 


UBBMK-U.CBWWtf'l 


